Sentinel
by lildrummerboi
Summary: It's his job to stand guard, to watch and to protect. He's the first one in and the last one out, and when all hope is lost, he maintains his ground, steadfast, and ready. Evildoers beware, Sentinel is here. Rewrite up.
1. Secret Agent Man

**AN: To new readers welcome, to old welcome back, I was unhappy with how rushed the first arc felt and decided to go back and tweak them a little bit so I hope you enjoy the newly revised story, and look to see chapter 4 out sometime early in February**

*Disclaimer, All rights belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan

Hungary really was a beautiful place; the cities were fascinating and rich in history, and the countryside beautiful and sprawling. He would comment on how lovely the people were, but was finding it rather difficult at the moment considering the circumstances. Shockingly enough the locals didn't appreciate it when someone tried to "assassinate" local dignitaries. Even if he hadn't really been planning to assassinate anyone, and the entire attack, as well as his subsequent arrest, was all just a ploy to get one of their people out of the country. Their people had intercepted plans of a military coup a few days prior, hence their presence.

Which of course, brought him to the state of his current predicament. After being swarmed by twenty-some guards, he had been dragged into the dungeon like catacombs beneath the city-square and been chained, both hand s and feet, to the wall of the dungeon where he would await his execution in a few days time. His execution the next morning would mark the beginning of the takeover.

He raised his eyes to, once more, gauge the strength of the chains holding him in place, considering how much force it would take, and the leverage necessary to pry the chains, and subsequently him, from the shackles. Not that it did him much good mind you, the guards had been smart enough to ensure that both his legs were tight fastened to the wall, held tightly together, to ensure that, while he had enough room to keep from dangling, he couldn't gather any sort of momentum to push himself free.

Sighing, he blew a strand of his dark, sweat and grim stained hair out of his bright, sea green eye. His shoulders, right where the bone and socket met, were finally beginning to outgrow the dull, almost annoying ache, into outright pain. Having nothing but your shoulders to support the entire weight of your body for nearly thirty hours does that to a person.

He didn't even bother wiggling, in an attempt to perhaps loosen one of his binds, or even free an appendage. He'd tried that, some hours previously, when he was sure that it was just him alone in the dungeon-like cavern. Of course it hadn't worked, and of course he griped and groaned to himself about the unfairness of it all. The bad guys weren't supposed to be smart, that was most certainly not how this worked.

Unfortunately, for the past decade or so, the enemies of the world had finally gotten enough sense, probably through centuries of being beaten and pounded into paste, that they were over the ostentatious and outright comical, death traps and pitfalls, of which they had been privy to in the past.

A real shame.

He blamed pop culture. It was just so easy to see the stupidity behind long-winded monologues, and outrageous death contraptions, and convoluted plots of world domination that they were actually beginning to learn. And it had happened just as he was finishing his training too.

Talk about unfair.

He was broken from his mental ravings, he wasn't insane just incessantly bored, by the pain in his shoulders which were beginning to reach new heights. That was new, if not unexpected he lamented, more annoyed by the pain then anything. When you did the kind of things that he did, and had been through the, literal, hells he had, it became very evident very quickly, that pain was nothing more than a mental obstacle, one that, with enough practice, mental discipline, and a hell of a lot totally manly tears, can be overcome.

It was something that was never covered in the epic spy movies, the waiting. When the hero inevitably gets captured by the bad guys and is being held prisoner, and is waiting for whatever deus ex machina to miraculously show up and save the day, the movies never describe how boring it was to wait. He'd tried playing games to pass the time, but you can really only play "count the specs in the distance" so many times before it just got boring.

As another brief spasm, again in his shoulders and again cutting off his ADHD addled ramblings, he was able to make out a sound. To anyone else it could have been passed off as water dripping from the ceiling, or even some kind of rodent scurrying around, Percy had made friends with a few of them as he had been down here and knew for a fact that both Artemis and Apollo hadn't been down his end in nearly four hours, but his keen sense of hearing, as well as his rigorous mental training allowed him to decipher exactly what he was hearing.

He smirked.

Well it was about damn time. The careful and precise steps were those of someone looking to remain undetected, professional infiltrator. They knew how to hide their stepping patterns and knew the route well enough that they were even able to avoid most of the extremely squeaky and slick spots that Percy had noticed upon his arrival. It was fortunate that he noticed the noise when he did, if he hadn't then it was possible that his associate would have missed his mark completely, the bastards had taken him a slightly deeper part of the cavern than his had predicted and it could have proven costly.

Gathering what little moisture was still in his mouth, he swallowed, an attempt to dampen the insides slightly, before he used the back of his throat to make a high-pitched growl. It came out sounding like a series of squeaky clicks, instead of the guttural growl they had agreed upon, but the effect was instantaneous.

The careful, quiet padding transformed into a loud sprint, as the clicks reverberated off the walls, in less then thirty seconds a man's silhouette appeared in front of him.

"That you kid?" the voice asked, low and gruff, not even winded by the hundred-meter sprint he had just made.

"You gonna stand there and gape, or are you gonna get me down Tweety?" Percy replied, his own voice rough and ragged from disuse and a lack of fluids. "Should just leave you up there" the man grumbled under his breath, but with an underlying tone of relief. "What the hell happened? You weren't supposed to be this far north" "They decided that I deserved the luxury treatment" Percy snarked, the only acknowledgment was a slight grunt as the man patted his pockets, or at last that's what Percy thought was happening, he still couldn't see all that well. "Now where did I put-Ah-ha, gotcha!" he said after several seconds of searching for something.

The bright white glow of a flash suddenly erupted into the room so suddenly and violently that it actually hurt. Being in complete darkness for over a day affected ones sensitivity to light, go figure.

As his eyes began readjusting to the sudden light, he could finally make out the chiseled and ruggedly handsome man in front of him. Clint Barton, one of the other members of the team assigned to this mission, began examining the chains holding him in place. His dull blue eyes scanning up and down.

"Alright try not to move, might lose something if you do." Clint said, smirking slightly, clearly finding amusement in his struggles. Christ he was never going to let this one go. "If I could move, I wouldn't have had to wait for your sorry butt to get here." Percy snarked, albeit lightly. "Besides I wouldn't have had to have you rescue me in the first place if you hadn't freaking DRUGGED me" he growled out, his eyes flashing dangerously. As soon as the operation began Clint had slapped a needle into his neck, effectively disabling him and more importantly, making it damn near impossible enough for him to concentrate enough to use his powers. He understood the need for discretion, even though he had tried to "kill" a well politician but still, he was allowed to be a little annoyed.

"Pretty sure this makes it 5-4 in my favor boy wonder" Clint snarked back, electing to ignore Percy's petty whining, and he began placing a sticky, putty-like substance on his bound wrists and ankles, "No" Percy began fixing Clint with a glare that lacked any real heat, "This makes us even, that business it Latvia doesn't…doesn't count" He got a snort in response to that.

"I'd close your mouth" Was all the warning he got before Clint suddenly jumped away as the puttylike substance erupted, in a shower of sparks and the shackles fell to the ground, a smoldering mess. Coughing and rubbing his wrists together, he stood up with a slight grimace on his face. "Thanks for the warning man" he said sarcastically. Clint just shot him a smirk as he turned and began walking back down the dark corridor.

Taking the cue, Percy followed after. "We good?" he asked, as he rolled his shoulders in a deft attempt to regain some feeling. Clint glanced at him, "Nat got the HVT as they were taking you away, and they're waiting at a safe house just outside the main square." They turned and Percy nearly tripped over the bodies of the guards that had disappeared about 10 minutes previously, they came by about every couple of hours just to make sure that he hadn't somehow managed to escape. "A little close to the action don't you think?" Percy said, concerned.

Clint chuckled a little, "Probably, but the original LZ was too hot for a dust off, nobody at the embassy was sure if you were "acting alone" or not so place is still swarming, it'll be a while before everything settles down and there's nowhere better to hide then right under the noses of those you're hiding from."

Percy nodded in understanding, before stopping and groaning dramatically, "This means we're on overwatch, doesn't it?" His answer came in the form of a smirk. Percy groaned again, and resumed walking.

He hated being on overwatch, it meant twelve plus hours laying perfectly still, in a cramp, and often times overheated room, constantly scanning your field of view for any and all hostiles. Staying still and concentrated for that amount of time would be hard for anybody, let alone for someone with his ADHD, but he would suck it up and power through, he always did.

It took them nearly two hours before they finally made it back to the safe house, by which point; night had already fallen.

The safe house was located on the upper floor of a small bakery, what would normally be a modest and homely one-room apartment, had been transformed into modern OPS center, with enough equipment and TAC gear to make even Tony Stark green with envy.

Natasha Romanoff, clad in a skin-tight leather jumpsuit with a pair of handguns strapped to her legs, was bent over a computer when they entered the room. She didn't look up or even acknowledge their presence for several moments.

"I still can't get ahold of SHIELD." she said, annoyance straining her voice. "We'll be flying blind until we can get an AWACS in the area, but until then you two are gonna have to be our eyes and ears."

"Hey there Natasha, I'm fine thanks for asking, hope you're doing well too" He snarked at her.

She ignored him.

"You gear is over there." She said, pointing over to the corner of the room. Still not taking her eyes off the screen in front of her. Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to his gear, nodding briefly at the shaking HVT sitting on the chair, he grabbed his duffel and quickly changed into his TAC gear before nodding at Clint in farewell and making his way to his position.

An old school building, roughly half a mile from the safe house was his destination. Off limits to the public for fear of failing structural integrity, or at least that's what SHIELD was having people believe. On the top floor was his "nest" as Clint was apt to call it.

He pushed a pair of desks over to the northern-most windows, set his pack on top and pulled out the pieces to one of his rifles. Quickly assembling the high-powered rifle he put pulled out his sights and settled in for the night.

It was nearly noon the next day before his earpiece crackled to life, Clint's voice causing him to nearly jump. "Contact, multiple APC's heading our way, on your two Kid." Shifting his position slightly, he looked through his sights, scanning for some moments before finally coming to a stop. "Yeah, I got 'em. Nat, you guys ready to move?" Percy said, switching back to his view on the safe house.

"We're already a block away. See you boys soon. Have fun." He could practically hear the smile on her face. Fun, yeah-ok Nat thanks. Clint's voice once again rang in his ear, "Get ready to engage." "What's the go?" "You'll know when you see it." It was moments like this he really hated his fellow agents. Sure they were his best friends, his family really, but did they need to be so damn vague all the time?

Sighing slightly he started to attempt to steady his breathing into a calming rhythm, as adrenalin began working its way into his system. He saw the vehicles pull to a stop in front of the safe house, as a group of heavily armed men exited.

They grouped into formation and steadily, and professionally made their way forward towards the building. Rookies, Percy thought to himself, they hadn't even bothered to attempt clearing the area of civilians. This was going to get very messy very fast. He hated it when innocent people got caught in the crossfire. No that was too tame, loss of innocent life was the one thing that brought an unholy roar of fury out of the otherwise calm, happy go-lucky man.

They entered the building, leaving his range of sight. It was almost time; he could hear the blood pumping in his ears as he switched the safety off. A bead of sweat slowly made its way from his brow, rolling down the side of his face until it rested casually at the corner of his mouth. He ignored it, instead choosing to focus on his breathing.

In

Out

In

Out

In

He gripped the handle of his rifle just a little tighter and moved his finger onto the trigger. He was ready, any minute now. He was hungry, he noticed, maybe when this was all over he'd get a burger, or maybe tonight would a hotdog kind of night. These were the thoughts running riot in his head when it happened.

All hell broke loose.


	2. Coulson is a douche

*Disclaimer, All rights belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan

Chapter 1

He opened the door to his apartment and slowly trudged in, his steps slow and staggered, heavy under the weight of all of his equipment. He wasn't sure he would be able to make it to his bed, it had taken every last ounce of willpower not collapse during the debrief, the drive home, and the subsequent walk up the three flights of stairs to his modest studio overlooking Central Park. It was small and there was always a lingering smell of…something, but Percy was almost never in town long enough to really make use of the small apartment so he generally didn't pay too much attention to it.

This was one of perks of working for a shadowy government organization. There weren't many, but free room in board, in New York City? Overlooking the only real green for miles? That's a no brainer right there.

Dropping his duffel on the floor by the couch he wandered into the kitchen, and threw open the fridge. He was surprised to find, not the haphazard mess of half eaten meals and instant microwave dinners he had left, but instead, a plethora of full course meals, wrapped and ready in several large Tupperware containers.

He smiled and chuckled lightly under his breathe, even at the age of twenty-four, his mother insisted on taking care of him. Not that you would ever catch him complaining mind you, his mother was his world, yes he was a momma's boy and pretty damn proud of it too, he just hoped that she didn't drive herself to crazy worrying about him, as she was known to do.

Blindly reaching and grabbing the nearest container, at a quick glance he was pretty sure that it was some chicken breasts and rice, and threw it in the microwave to heat up. Doing the best to ignore the grumbling in his stomach, he decided to do something about the aches in his body, which had returned in tour-de-force. Reaching into the cupboard over the sink, he grabbed a cup; he filled it with ice-cold water and downed the entire thing in a few quick gulps.

The effects were immediate, the tension and soreness that had permeated his entire body vanished, and the fog threatening to completely engulf his mind started to clear. Setting the cup in the sink with a satisfied smack of his lips he caught sight of something blinking out of the corner of his eye. He walked over to the answering machine, sitting on a small table next to the couch.

Seeing the messages, a whopping total of three despite being completely incommunicado nearly three months, flashing on the screen he hit the button and listened as the microwave beeped and he walked over to settle into his well deserved meal.

"Percy, it's Hank, Just wanted to let you know that Mary and Christina are both adjusting well, thanks again for bringing them in, talk to you soon." **Beep.**

"Mr. Jackson, it's Marissa Thompson from Doctor Martin's office, we're calling to remind you of your appointment on Wednesday the eighth, that's next week. Thank you and we hope you have a nice day." **Beep**

"Hey Sweetie, it's me, just calling to remind you that Laura's recital is Thursday at Seven, if you can't make it we understand but if you're back in town we'd love to see you! We miss you! Love you sweetheart hope to see you soon!" **Beep.**

Crap, he completely forgot about the recital, in his defense though it had been three months, who could blame him? To explain, his baby sister Laura had decided the year before that she was going to be ballerina, cliché yes, but nobody could deny that she was extremely talented for her age. Besides, nobody could deny her a damn thing; she always knew just what buttons to press to get exactly what she wanted. Barely seven years old and already had everyone in her family wrapped around her delicate fingers, but Percy didn't think he'd have it any other way.

Family was just too important to him now, it always had been important but in the last six years or so it took on brand new meaning for him, he understood family and the love and need for one better than he ever did as a kid. It was why he left the world he knew behind, and it was why he did the things he did, he didn't mind throwing himself into danger day after day if it meant that he could to see his baby sister's eyes light up, and his mother smile one more time.

Glancing over to the clock on the wall and checking the date, he groaned around his food, he was really looking forward to a night on his couch, with some baseball, and beer. But, being the loving and wonderful son that he was, he made his way to his bedroom for a quick change into something more appropriate. Opting for his work suit, exchanging the black tie that screamed, 'Hi! I'm a federal agent' for a navy blue one. Also making sure to grab the three small packages from his duffel, carefully wrapped in beautiful silken covers. He liked to grab small little gifts and trinkets for his family whenever he left the country, it always helped to remind him exactly why he had to do the things he did. And seeing his Laura jump up and down excitedly before hugging him like there was no tomorrow made it even better.

Throwing the remnants of his dinner in a container, he did a quick, half-hearted cleanup before running back out the door and towards his car. While it was a far cry from a Maserati, he could hardly complain about a vintage mustang. The fact that it was blue certainly helped.

BREAK

Traffic was awful, as expected of NYC, and despite breaking every speed law possible when he could actually get going, he barely made it in time. He took a seat in the back of the large auditorium; far enough away that he didn't disturb the other patrons as he came in but still close enough that he would be able to see everything that was happening. The lights went down almost as soon as he hit the seat and couldn't contain his smile as Laura and her troupe came on stage.

He was always a little taken aback every time he laid eyes on his little sister, she was a carbon copy of her mother, her long brown hair cascading down her back, and her mothers bright blue eyes shinning in excitement and nervous eagerness. She thrived in the spotlight, something Percy couldn't help but be envious of, he always did his best work when he thought no one was watching him but his little sister seemed to do her best when the lights were shinning down.

It was a beautiful routine, exciting and engaging, or as engaging as it can be when the performers are six, seven, and eight year olds. When he was younger he would never have been caught dead at a ballet recital. He had never been one for classical forms of entertainment, however soon after his inauguration into SHIELD Phil began dragging him to ballets and operas and symphonies.

Citing that if he was going to be an agent of SHIELD that he was going to need to be a more well-rounded and cultured individual. He almost snorted. Sure it had come in handy every once in a while, but deep cover ops, posing as some posh and affluent member of high society was more Nat's territory than his.

Still, he mused silently, watching the dancers twirl and pirouette on the grand stage in a beautifully simple and adorably captivating fashion, if he was able to sit here and watch and enjoy his baby sister perform majestic feats such as these, then it was well worth it.

With a beautiful flourish, the dancers called their routine to an end to tumultuous applause. Standing up with a large smile on his face, he brought his hands together excitedly. Going out into the lobby as the rest of the audience began filling out of the auditorium, he waited a few moments before his eyes settled on his family.

Percy would swear up and down that his mother seemed to have a built in radar for when he was around, it was the only way to explain how she always knew he was right behind her, but maybe it was just a mother thing. "Percy! You made it!" Sally Jackson said happily, her large grin threatening to split her face in half, as she all but ran towards him, throwing her arms around him, "I wouldn't miss this for anything." He said, embracing her tightly, taking a brief moment to lose himself in the safe and familiar comfort of his loving mother, before turning in her grip to address his stepfather. "Hey there, Paul, how're you doing?" He said, taking a hand off his mother's back and grasping his stepfather's hand tightly.

"I'm doing well Percy, hell of a show huh?" He said, pride evident in his eyes. "It was incredible." Percy said, "It seems like every time I watch her she's ten times better than before." Paul laughed and simply nodded his head in agreement, he looked like he was about to say something else when the backstage doors opened and the dancers poured into the lobby, it didn't take Percy very, or Paul all too long to see the small brown haired bullet running their way

"Oh baby, you were incredible out there, you were so beautiful and graceful" cooed Sally, unshed tears beginning to shine in the corners of his eyes, as she tore away from Percy and hugged her daughter,

"Mom!" Laura groaned, her face reddening in embarrassment. "People are staring!" "Don't fight it kiddo, the more you fight it, the tighter the hold becomes." Percy chuckled.

Laura turned in her mother's arms, her eyes widening slightly, after all it was not often that she got to see her older brother. He always felt guilty that he wasn't more active in his sister's life that her reaction to seeing him was always more akin to shock that he was actually around and still kicking rather than just a pleasant, albeit unexpected, surprise.

"Percy! You came!" she shouted as she finally found her voice and managed to pry herself free of her mother's grip and launched herself at Percy, who staggered slightly as the small brown bullet rammed into his midsection.

Wrapping his arms around her small frame he picked her up, despite her protests to the contrary she was still small enough that he could do it, and a warm smile making its way onto his face. "You killed it out there tonight short-stack" "Did you see me during the second act, I was worried I wouldn't hit my mark, because I was missing it rehearsal but I nailed it and Rebecca…" She went on rambling; Percy smiled, he thrived for moments like these, where it was just him and his little but loving family, no stress, no plots to end the world, just family.

In his line of work, and even in his times before SHIELD, he found that taking time to appreciate the quiet moments, like this one, were extremely important. When you weren't sure what tomorrow was going to bring, you needed to learn to take advantage of what you had while you had it.

Grinning down at Laura as she babbled, he snuck a quick look at mother, and gestured softly to the doors. Nodding at him, a watery smile on her face as she watched her children, Sally grabbed Paul by the hand and began steering their way out of the small building, saying goodbye to a few of Laura's friends along the way.

They were out into the parking lot before Laura rounded on him completely, "Where is it?" she asked her dancing in the late summer sun. Of course he knew that she was referring to the present currently sitting in the backseat of his car, but he wasn't going to fold that easily, he was made of sterner stuff. Or at least that's what he liked to believe at any rate. The truth was though that he could withstand torture, interrogation and every type of malicious evil associated with his type of employment, but he could never last more than five minutes when looking at little Laura Jackson.

Dammit.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about" He said innocently, he would at least make her work for it a little bit, out of the corner of his he could see that his mother and Paul had stopped walking and began watching the interaction with a familiar look of fondness and amusement. They could at least try and help him out here couldn't they.

Yeah right. They absolutely loved to watch him sweat.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" She demanded squeakily stomping her foot down to the ground in a painfully familiar way and dammit he most certainly did not coo, he was far too macho for that. He wouldn't break though and opted instead to raise a brow in mock confusion, he deserved an Oscar for this, "Where's my present, you always bring a present." She demanded, "Well maybe I might have picked something up when I was abroad." He said airily, waving his hand non-committedly as he did so. "But if I did potentially have something for you" he started, crouching down so they were at eye-level "That wouldn't be the way to go about asking for such things now would it?"

He would be the first to admit that he spoiled her rotten but no one could say that he wasn't drilling common courtesy into her head either.

Seeing no point in denying her any longer, he motioned for her to stop and close her eyes, before telling her that he would be right back. He briskly walked the remaining few feet to his car before unlocking it, reaching into the backseat, and plucking out the three small packages that were sitting on the leather bench in his backseat.

"All right kiddo, you can open your eyes" he said with a quiet smile dancing on his lips. Her eyes shot open as she grabbed at the package he was holding out, shouting a quick "Thank you Percy!" as she tore into the wrapping. Laughing he tossed the other two presents town his mother and Paul nodding at them in answer to their questionable looks.

As Laura squealed in delight, clutching onto her new handmade doll, and his mother and step-mother gasped in surprised delight at their own gifts, a set of texts from the state library in Budapest for Paul, and quill and ink set for his mother, and Percy felt a wave of peace and happiness wash over him for the first time in months.

Tonight was a good night.

BREAK

Pizza, beer, family, and baseball, this was definitely better than another lonely night in his apartment, on his couch.

Stretching his arms above his head he stood, blithely listening to Paul and Laura argue over baseball, and made his way back to the kitchen to help his mom clean up.

Grabbing the nearest stack of dirty dishes and walking over to the sink he set to work, his mother just rolling her eyes exasperatedly at him. She hated it when he tried to help her out around the kitchen; it was her turf, but how could anyone argue against someone like him helping out, it made the process and subsequent clean up that much easier, but she had since given up attempting to argue with him about it. Stubbornness was a familial trait.

"How long are you back?" She asked quietly, as to not disturb the occupants in the other room. "I'm not sure" He replied honestly, "they tend to not really give me much notice before they call me in." He had, at one point, tried to hide his work from his mother, he had lied to himself that it was for her own safety and that this was what would be best for her.

He had lasted about a week.

And while she wasn't exactly thrilled that he was once again throwing himself face first into danger, she knew there would be no arguing him out of it. He was a warrior, she knew that even she didn't like to admit it, and deep down she also knew that he would never be able to just sit down and have a normal nine-to-five job.

He just wasn't programmed that way.

She sighed, a low and pitiful sound that wrenched his heart a little, before putting on a smile, that smile that she always wore when she tried to hide how she was truly feeling. He knew that his being away scared her, the uncertainty that came whenever he walked out the door, that he might never walk back through it.

He set down his dishes and wrapped her up in a tight hug, hoping that she understood what he was trying to get across to her. He had never been very good at expressing himself, but she always managed to understand him perfectly.

Mom's, there really is nothing that they can't do.

"So" she began, breaking off the hug and turning back towards the dishes, "are you seeing anyone yet, I don't like the idea of you constantly coming home to an empty apartment, it's not good for you."

He rolled his eyes.

Here we go.

"And don't give me that old 'I'm never home and it wouldn't be fair to her' malarkey, there are plenty of nice young ladies out there who would kill for a charming and handsome young man like you"

"Mom-" he began, before she cut him off, "And I know that you're not still hung on Annabeth so please don't feed me that nonsense either" "If you would just-" he tried again, "How about that nice girl down the hall from you? Or maybe even Natasha? She's nice!"

That made him pause, he had introduced Nat and Clint to his family a little over a year ago, and they joined him periodically to family dinners, but him and Natasha? He couldn't stop himself, it started as a light chuckle, which quickly evolved into laughter, and then outright guffawing.

His mother shot him a venomous glare, obviously not appreciating his levity. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he straightened up and tried to sort himself out a little.

He took a breath and composed himself before attempting to address his mother, "Listen mom, I appreciate the thought but no, just no, ignoring SHIELD protocols about interdepartmental relations, she is not my type."

"Well why's that?" She demanded, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, she just would not let this go. "Hard to have a trusting relationship with someone who lies for a living." He said sarcastically. "Just let it go mom, I'll find someone on my own time, ok? And besides, I'm just…" He was unsure how to say how he really felt, it had been so long that he couldn't properly formulate the words necessary to express the conflicting emotions he felt whenever these talks sprang up.

The idea of being with anyone but her still set him on edge, it just seemed…wrong somehow. Like the wind was slowly draining from his lungs and chest was constricting in on itself.

"At some point" His mother began slowly and softly, a quiet edge to her voice, "You're going to have to let her go Percy, you can't keep holding onto her forever like this, it's just not healthy." She was gripping the countertop tightly now, her knuckles turning white as a painfully familiar wetness gripped at the corner of her eyes.

"You talk about her like she's dead or something mom…" He replied lowly, his head hunching over slightly as he tried to avoid her burning gaze, "And I just don't think you fully grasp exactly why we decided to go the route we did." He let out a small breathe he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Well if you would only talk to me, get me to understand then maybe-" "No!" he cut her off vehemently and violently. Not entirely shouting but loud enough that he could see in the reflection of the refrigerator that Laura had looked over to them. He could not, and would not talk about that with his mother. She had a hard enough time with things as it was and he had a feeling that if he told her the real reason that he and Annabeth had ended things, that it would be a meltdown of utterly biblical proportions.

She set her jaw and had a look in her eye that said that the conversation was far from over, however, before she could continue her interrogation they were interrupted by a ringing from Percy's pocket.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he looked at the number before groaning loudly, "you gotta be kidding me man…" he muttered under his breathe before flipping it open and answering.

"Jackson" he said, barely keeping the annoyance out of his voice. A man answered on the other end; his voice low, clipped, and professional. "We need you to come in." he said, "sir, with all due respect I got back less than four hours ago, I'm with my family, can't you get someone else for whatever the heck this is right now."

"Stark has been found" was the only reply he got. That got his attention; Stark had been missing for months. The leading legal arms dealer in the country went missing a few months ago, supposedly kidnapped by one of the world's most dangerous terrorist organizations, you can bet that SHIELD was scrambling.

Organizations like SHIELD prided themselves on knowing things, they're called intelligence agencies for a reason, so not knowing where the owner of a multi-billion dollar weapons manufacturer, who had just finished selling brand new, all-powerful warheads in Afghanistan, was, was a bit of a kick to teeth. Last he had heard, they had even opened up an entire branch specifically designated to locating and rescuing him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, there was no way of talking himself out of this one, and "alright I'll be out first thing in the morning." "Your flight leaves JFK in four hours." And the call ended.

That was so infuriatingly Coulson that it hurt, he looked at his mother, an apology already on his lips but before he could say anything his mother cut him off, she was good at that, begrudging understanding written on her face.

"It's ok honey, I understand." She gave him a reassuring smile and he felt relief flow into his system. He hugged her tightly before going back into the living room to say his goodbyes.

"But you just got here!" Laura cried out, her bright eyes shinning in betrayal, he felt his heart pull again, that was exactly the same look his mother gave him when he first left for SHIELD. He ruffled her head a little as he knelt down to her level, "I know kiddo, but sometimes when you're a grown up sometimes you have to do things that you don't like or don't want to." "Then I never want to grow up, being grown is dumb!"

That drew out a laugh from everyone in the room, his grin threatening to split his face in two, Percy reached out and embraced his little sister. He shook hands with Paul, gave one last hug to his mother and made his way out the door.

Coulson seriously owed him for this.

BREAK

After a brief stop back at his apartment to grab some supplies, ultimately unnecessary as when he arrived a fully packed duffle laid neatly on top of his bed, with a manila envelope, Stark's file, perched on top. He made it to JFK with roughly two hours to spare.

Security was always an adventure when you were a SHIELD agent. You always get pulled aside, searched thoroughly, and have your credentials questioned, an unfortunate side effect to working for a secret government agency, then proceed to sit quietly for about an hour as the mess gets sorted out.

With his identity and credentials verified by unimportant SHIELD agent number one, he made his way to the nearest café; he would need an ungodly, amount of caffeine to get him through the next few hours.

Between now, and when his plane landed in Malibu he would need to bring himself up to speed with every minute, insignificant, and seemingly irrelevant detail of Tony Stark's life.

This was something that was often overlooked when considering the occupation of superspy, the sheer amount of reading. Percy hated reading. So you can imagine how much he enjoyed this aspect of his job. In short, he despised it, sure aspects could be interesting, disturbing, even downright funny, typically; though, it was unquestionably boring.

Hence the coffee.

And the donuts, lots and lots of donuts.

Donuts, were a necessity for a nice, old fashioned, cram session. The sugar was good for higher brain function, sure every physician he had ever met with disagreed with him, but Percy was adamant. He simply could not get through a night of files without a hell of a lot of sugar.

He's not a child, he just knows his body and what it needs better than some "professional".

Having godly blood also helps but we don't talk about that.

And so he proceeded to waste away two hours of his life, pouring over Stark's early years. And from what he was reading he quickly deduced one thing.

Daddy issues. Lots and lots of daddy issues.

Apparently after having worked side by side with Captain America himself, Howard Stark was not easily impressed. Least of all by his own son, not even graduating MIT before most people learn to drive was enough to repair the fractured relationship.

And because Howard and his wife died when Tony was only twenty-one, they never had an opportunity to try and repair the relationship. And Percy thought his family life could be messy. Great, now he was getting all sentimental again.

Refocusing Stark's approach to life began to make more sense, it seemed as though his every action was taken subconsciously to please his father. The man was a mess and the rampant alcohol abuse probably didn't help much either.

This would not be a fun assignment, Percy was certain of it.

Snarky sarcastic assholes with deep seeded daddy issues tend not to like each other all that much. Go figure.

Checking his watch he stood and stretched. Pausing briefly to enjoy the popping his back made as he loosened his stiff joints. Maybe he could file disability aid for all the back problems cause by crappy airport seating he'd endured.

Meandering over to the gate he arrived just in time to hear, "Flight 343, service to Los Angeles will now begin pre-flight boarding."

Percy idly checked his ticket again, before scoffing and rolling his eyes. Despite tearing him away from his family and some well deserved R&R, for a red eye flight to deal with some utter nonsense he really didn't care about, Phil still couldn't be bothered to even get him a first class ticket.

Dick.

Taking his place in line as general boarding went underway, he regarded the plane with a wary eye. Even after all this time he didn't like being in the air. At this point it didn't even really have anything to do with his estranged Uncle, though he would be lying if he said he didn't believe the man would blast him out of the sky given the chance.

No, for some strange reason the thought of being trapped in a tight metal tube, thousands of feet in the air, well away from any stable ground or water made him uneasy. What a weirdo right?

Following the line as it crawled slowly forward, seriously why is boarding an airplane such a slow process, he silently despaired as his mind shifted back to the stack of papers in his bag.

Reading is the absolute worse. He did a quick mental count, realizing that it would probably be for the best, he discretely pulled a pill out of a container in the lining of his pants before popping it into his mouth while feigning a small yawn.

The pill, he forgot what the name of it was, was a brilliant little development by Dr. Bruce Banner. While he had originally designed the little pill to help stave off the more unseemly aspects of his colorful personality, it was supposed to be a stress reliever. It also had the added effects of inducing a hyper awareness and focus, not dissimilar to a cocaine high.

For that reason alone, and a litany of side effects such as, but not limited to: internal bleeding, aneurysms, and strokes; it was designed, after all, to help suppress an enormous green rage monster; it had been banned by the FDA.

SHIELD, however, immediately saw the benefits and began working on a way to lessen the side effects. The result? Basically Adderall mixed with Xanax and a touch of Prozac. Basically a super drug that helped agents manage the extreme emotions of the job.

Percy needed them for flying. Things tended to…break when he got stressed out and typical medications didn't exactly work for guys like him.

Just as the medication's effects began to take hold, he reached the ticket counter. He smiled at the bored, middle-aged woman behind the counter, as he handed over his ticket. Taking it back with another smile he meandered down the jet way before stopping.

Again.

This was definitely another reason he hated flying. It took too damn long. As also evidenced by the six-hour flight ahead of him. He sighed, for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, and set about waiting again.

Some six and a half hours later saw a bleary eyed Percy emerge from the main terminal and into baggage claim at LAX. He'd barely had time to truly process his surroundings before he caught sight of his boss. Or one of his bosses; it was confusing all right?

Phil Coulson looked like he had been ripped out of the encyclopedia under "Fed". From his dark short cropped hair, to his suit and even his watch. The type of guy you see on the street, before waling the other way because you want no part of whatever is about to go down.

He was holding a small white sheet of construction paper with "Percy Jackson" written in large, dark letters on it.

Percy very nearly snorted. Nearly. As good as Coulson was, he really never got the point of covert.

Making his way over to the man, Coulson quickly greeted him, "Jackson." He said, "You're looking haggard." Percy shot him a glare, and received only a blank stare in response. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." Percy said as they began walking towards the exit, his voice heavy with fatigue.

"Here" Coulson said, thrusting an object in front of persons nose. "Oh god you're the best" Percy responded, taking the cup of coffee from the man and taking a long drink. " You even remembered the cream and sugar!" Percy said, delighted.

Coulson turned another blank stare his way, I still don't understand how you can drink that swill."

Leaving the building they began making their way into the adjacent parking garage, Coulson slightly ahead of Percy, leading the way.

"Yeah well, you drink your coffee straight black like some kind animal. It's unnatural" came Percy's indignant rebuttal.

Honestly how can anyone give him grief for adding a little cream and sugar to his coffee if they drank it straight like some kind of heathen?

Coulson didn't reply this time, opting to remain silent the rest of the way to the car. Percy was content to comply and stuck to drinking his caffeinated beverage and attempting to clear the clouds that were threatening his thinking.

They finally made it to the car, a black something or another, Percy didn't know cars exceptionally well except that it seemed exceedingly average. He waited until they were down the ramp and off airport property before asking, the last of the fogginess leaving his head:

"So what are we really doing here?" Coulson didn't say anything at first, instead, and without taking his eyes of the road, tapped on the dashboard a few times and video screen popped up with a video queued up of what looked like a desert. "This video was taken by our satellites 48 hours ago, about 40 miles from our Bagram base in Afghanistan."

He hit play, still looking only at the road, and Percy watched what looked like a the tail of jet streak across the sky, before the video cut and zoomed in to show a pixelated image. "What the hell…" Percy muttered as he clicked on the screen to zoom in more on the image. "Is that…is that a metal suit?" He asked, incredulous.

"We believe so, yes" "And this is what we need to interrogate Stark about?" A nod. "We know who it is?" instead of responding, Coulson merely resumed the video, and Percy watched as the metal man's suit began sputter before losing all thrust and plummeting to the sandy earth below.

"Wait a minute…is that Stark?" Another nod, "How in the hell did he manage to build that?!" "That's exactly what we intend to find out, and also where your mission begins"

Percy furrowed his brow, quizzically before realization dawned on him. "You don't think he'll consent to debriefing do you? So you want me to watch and see if he does this again, don't you?" A third nod. "We believe that Stark has also found the source of powerful renewable energy. There was no jet fuel in that machine if you didn't notice; it was propelled by something else entirely. We believe that whatever it was that Stark used to make that could be used in a more beneficial manner."

Percy snorted, "The fact that he managed to manufacture a potential new weapon doesn't hurt either." Coulson said nothing for a moment, before he said "I don't think I need to tell you how many lives can be saved if we manage to automatize warfare, or even prevent it from happening at all. This could be the key to that."

Percy said nothing, knowing that Coulson wasn't exactly wrong, rubbing the bridge of his nose, as he felt the beginnings of a headache come on he knew one thing.

This was going to suck


	3. Percy fights a cliché

*Disclaimer, All rights belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan

Chapter 2

Very quickly Percy began to understand Tony Stark better than any federal dossier could ever explain; Tony Stark was: a raging alcoholic, a genius, a philanderer, a philanthropist, car enthusiast, a narcissist, and above all else, shockingly boring.

It had been the same damn routine for the several months. Wake up, more than likely somewhere in the pigsty he called a basement, drink four cups of coffee, and then settle back into working on…something. Likely, as Percy deduced and later relayed to his superiors, a modification of the suit he had used to escape the Ten-Rings back in January.

Really the entire ordeal had completely disillusioned him to the life of the rich and famous. Pity.

He sighed as he stood up, stretching his arms above his head and enjoying the popping sounds as his kinks worked themselves out, and meandered over to the coffee pot where he poured, what he thought was, his third cup of the day.

The coffee pot, along with the rest of the very nice house, was once the property of a drug lord in the late '90s, however when he died, of assuredly accidental circumstances, his land and titles were forfeited over to SHIELD for safekeeping. As such, it had been turned into a surveillance post, one that was outfitted with the all the latest in wiretapping technology. Percy didn't truly understand how most of the equipment did the stuff that it did, but he did know that he could watch Stark wander around in his basement workshop, tinkering and doing whatever it was that eccentric billionaires did in their free time. Which he now had an obscene amount of, considering his company was currently hemorrhaging money.

Oh right, upon returning Stateside, Stark announced that his company, a weapons manufacturing company with multiple multi-million/billion dollar contracts with the US government, NATO and the UN, was no longer going to produce weapons. The market was still recovering from the fallout of that particular bombshell.

As he finished doctoring his coffee, he couldn't help but let his mind wander a bit. Now this was possibly the most important thing he learned when he was in training, how to let your mind wander but still stay completely aware of what was going on with your mark. It served him better than any other tool or skill to date.

Letting his thoughts scatter, he couldn't help but think about his old…friends and wonder what they were up to these days. Did they still think about him? He had finally gotten to the point where he really only regarded their existence every few weeks or so, but still, had they perhaps forgotten about him? Or were they simply staying true to their end of the agreement? While he certainly wouldn't put it past them to go back on the bargain, he certainly hoped they realized that he deserved at least this much.

After everything he had done, all he had sacrificed, he deserved this. He deserved to be able to choose his own destiny, and pave his own path in life. And while he had seemingly given up one set of masters for another, he had been able to choose to do this. He had chosen this life. That was something not even his closest friends had seemed to be able to understand. It didn't matter what he was doing, or from whom he followed orders, the fact that he got to choose this life for himself was enough for him.

It was a concept that had never occurred to him when he was younger, what does free will mean to a twelve year old anyway? How are they supposed to know how monumentally their life can be tinkered with and manipulated, all without their choosing? That was the difference, Percy knew the kind of people he was dealing with now, but he went along with it because he felt that it was the right path for him to take, he couldn't say the same thing about when he was a kid.

He swallowed a mouthful of his coffee and turned his attention back towards the monitors; that was enough brooding for one day, even for him. Any more of that and he might as well just change his name to Harry and carve a scar into his forehead.

As he refocused on the images in front of him, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. What the hell? Sure he had seen Stark testing some basic propulsion equipment a month ago but he didn't think he would be this far along so quickly. On the screen in front Percy was an image of Tony Stark, or rather Tony Stark as he began putting on what looked to be a large suit of shiny silver armor.

Just as he was about to make a call to command, Stark placed the last piece, an intimidating looking faceplate, onto his helmet, before flying, literally flying out of the garage.

"Holy crap…" Percy breathed out, then, acting quickly he jumped at his phone and began dialing. "This is Jackson, designation S37N41, I need immediate TacSat response to an IFO on the coast of Maui. Object is silver, humanoid and is hitting close to Mach 2 in a class 4 residential area. I don't care what you've got to do but get me a live feed of it." There was a brief pause on the other end, with only the sound of typing to fill his ears. "We've got him, connecting you now." "Thank you."

The monitor to his left flickered briefly before a live video feed of Stark's new suit came up. Almost as soon as the video came through, the phone rang again. Knowing who it was going to be he picked it up after the first ring. "Jackson" he said, already knowing who would be on the other end. "You called in an emergency TacSat, what's happened?" Hello Coulson, good to hear from you too, "Seems like Stark finished his pet project, we were right, he was perfecting the model he used in Afghanistan. This thing nearly hit Mach 2 coming out of his garage, honestly I'm-"

He was cut off as something on the screen caught his attention, Stark, who was in the midst of a sharp climb, was beginning to ice over. Percy could see the stabilizers on his gauntlets palms begin to flicker, as the propulsion in his boots stuttered slightly. "What is it Jackson" Coulson's calm, albeit stern voice brought him out of his observations.

"Stark tried to climb too close to orbit, his system is starting to freeze over, I give it maybe thirty seconds before he-dammit looks like I was wrong already" Stark was falling, his suits systems completely had frozen over leaving him vulnerable as he plummeted to the city below. "Do we need to scramble a recovery team?" Coulson asked almost unconcernedly, Percy watched the screen, he could almost see the panic on the face of the billionaire, as he attempted to fix the problem and get his systems rebooted.

It was here that Percy noticed the faint light emanating from the small thrusters on the suits palm. It flickered briefly and faintly, but gave the briefest glimmer of life. "No hang on a minute, I think he might pull it out" Percy said, calm as ever, in situations such as these, where months of time, energy and resources were on the line, it was all too easy to potentially lose your cool at the first sign of real trouble, which is what Percy made sure to work extra hard at never losing his.

No sooner had the words left Percy's mouth than had Stark's suit sprung back to life and jettisoned back into the sky, in the direction of Stark's home.

"What's the play here sir?" Percy asked, there weren't many options left at this point and Percy was seriously considering just breaking in and taking the billionaire. There was a pause as Coulson thought, and Percy could swear that he could actually hear the gears turning in the mans head as attempted to piece together a new course of action.

"Do you have a tuxedo?" came Coulson's voice suddenly and sharply. This threw Percy for a loop, "A tuxedo sir?" he asked, uncertain. Where in the hell was this going? "Yes Jackson, a tuxedo. You know sport coat, tie, dress pants, the works. Do you have one?" This last pint was punctuated with aggressively smooth articulation, emphasizing the man's impatience with Percy's impertinent questions "Yes..." Percy answered tentatively, still confused as to where this was going, so he asked as such.

"The third annual benefit dinner for the Fire-Firefighters Family Fund is in two days. Stark will be there. So will we." Now Percy was starting to understand but there was still one large problem with the plan. "What makes you think that he's going to come out? He hasn't left that house for months now." "He'll be there" was the only reply.

BREAK

The more he thought about it, the more Percy was glad he wasn't extravagantly wealthy, or flamboyantly famous. There was just such an overwhelming sense of falsity surrounding the lifestyle, whether it was the overt two-fadedness of it all, or the way every minute if every second of your day was recorded in some fashion, it just wasn't for him.

It also made assignments where he had to attend events of the rich and famous all the more aggravating. At his core, he was a pretty in your face kind of guy. He didn't mince words, and hated to beat around the bush, so having to suck up and kiss the ass of every slimy grease-ball at high society functions typically kept him in a sour mood.

But, he would grit his teeth and bare it like the consummate professional that he was; he could nearly hear Nat's snort at the thought of that. He kept himself for openly rolling his own eyes as he turned away from the live band and made his way to the bar, choosing to instead focus on the task at hand.

He had originally questioned why Coulson wanted two agents for this, when all they were supposedly doing was setting a date for a debriefing with Stark's secretary. That was before Coulson forwarded him the accounts for Stark Industries for the last year.

It seemed as though one Obadiah Stane had been sending an obscene amount of money to offshore bank accounts up until a couple of days after Stark's escape. After that, everything clicked into place, Miss Potts was already familiar with Coulson, he would stand out and provide and excellent distraction as Percy completed the real job. Find Stane, and plant a decryption device on his phone.

The device in question was nearly microscopic, attaching to the fibers in the fingers of skin, all Percy had to do was touch the back of Stane's phone with his right index finger, and that would be able to monitor every little thing that went on his life.

And they say that magic doesn't exist.

Reaching the bar he asked the bartended, a middle-aged balding man in a red vest, "Vodka Martini please, shaken." The bartender nodded and, when he thought Percy wasn't looking, rolled his eyes. Ok so maybe Percy liked to indulge in his inner child once in a while and pretend he was James Bond, he was a damn sight closer to most people and would appreciated not being mocked for it, thank you very much.

Thanking the man for his drink, before paying and tipping generously, SHIELD shockingly paid pretty well, he turned his attention to the rest of gathered guests and the task at hand.

He had arrived fairly early, a habit drilled into him during his training, and began running through scenarios in his head, gauging exactly when and how he would make his play. He considered the classic, bump and shake, where you "accidently" collide with your target before making your play as you hold their attention.

There was also the "Do I know you from somewhere", a classic and a personal favorite, where you play act that you're an old friend or acquaintance and make your move as you have their attention.

The key to any successful mark was to ensure that their attention was anywhere but the thing you're attempting to steal, or in this case plant. The best approaches made use of physical contact; when you're already making physical contact with someone, additional contact, through say their pocket or purse, generally goes more unnoticed.

It didn't hurt that a couple friends had taught him a thing or two about pickpocketing, thank you Stoll twins. He was drawn from his musings by the sound of a commotion outside by the stairs.

Shouting and squealing, and just general euphoria. Crap, he thought to himself; that could only mean one thing. Stark had finally shown up, just as Coulson had said that he would. He moved slowly and carefully to a position on the opposite side of the room, giving him a greater view of the entryway, and waited for his target.

He didn't have to wait too long, as shortly as Tony Stark walked in, a strange, purposeful bounce in his step, in came his business partner as well as Coulson himself. Coulson, the professional that he was, didn't spare Percy a glance, and followed Stark towards the bar.

Percy took this as his cue to move in on Stane, he hadn't actually decided on a real course of action, rather, he was just going to wing, it usually worked out pretty well in the past and nothing too terrible ever happened as a result. The St. Louis Arch obviously didn't count, nor did Mt. Saint Helens for that matter.

So, with no real plan in mind, he strode purposefully over towards where Obadiah Stane was standing, he was watching Stark and Coulson…talked? That could hardly be the word for it, as Stark was very obviously not paying attention to a word coming out of Coulson's mouth. This also meant that Stane was not paying close enough attention to his surroundings, so engrossed in the interaction that was taking place in front of him that he completely missed the way that Percy tripped a passing Senator, Korey or Kelly or some such nonsense, causing him to spill the contents of his drink down the front of Stane's dinner jacket.

Stane spluttered, as a look of sheer disbelief crossed over his features, and it took some moments before he was even able to properly react to what had just happened. Never before had Percy ever seen a person turn such an interesting shade of purple, he almost laughed, now his face matched the stain on his shirt.

As the two men quietly, although not so subtly, began to argue, Percy slinked up to Stane's back and touched his right index finger to the front of the phone he had watched Stane place in his right, pants pocket. He quickly extracted his finger and continued on his way towards the other side of the room.

All in all, his interaction with the men had taken all but a few brief seconds, and now Percy, and SHIELD, would have direct access to every aspect of Stane's life. After all, for a successful 21st century man like Obadiah Stane, your life was in your phone; bank accounts, social security numbers, the names of your mistress', everything.

They would even hold any plots to kill your business partner and longtime friend, but that was just pure speculation on the part of both Percy and SHIELD. Speculation that they were almost certain was fact. However, nothing would be certain until Percy had a chance to pour over these documents for a few days, which meant that he needed to be headed back to the safe house.

Pulling out his phone as he stood, he walked towards the exit as he began a quick search of local doughnut places, ok so maybe he had a little bit of a problem but better doughnuts than heroine right? He was so engrossed in his quest for the delicious pastry treats that he didn't notice the kaleidoscope eyes following from halfway across the room.

And as he began his descent down the stairs and into the late summer night, he never heard the small, delicate gasp, as a young, beautiful, brown haired woman realized just whom the man she had been watching all night was, excusing herself from the affluent members of high society she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Jason would want to know about this.

BREAK

Percy had never really considered himself an adrenaline junkie, sure he enjoyed combat, thrived in the fight, but he never actively sought out conflict. Ok, so maybe that wasn't entirely true, he did work for a military organization, but still, he generally looked for the most peaceful and non-violent means of solving problems.

That being said, there was a savage, and primal pleasure in gearing up before a fight, the rush you get, the tightening of your chest, and the knowledge that the next few hours may be your last.

That is when you truly feel the most alive. It was also exactly how Percy felt, as he finished adjusting the flak jacket, it had been so long since he had last had to wear one that the new weight settled uneasily on his, he was worried that his balance may be thrown off, but after a few moments he was used to the weight once more.

Percy was preparing for a fight, and a big one. A lot had happened in the weeks following the benefit dinner, a few days after the event, Stark took his newly made armor and eviscerated an entire division of the Ten-Rings in a small town in Afghanistan, Gulmira.

Now the flying metal man was not only on SHIELD's watch list, but United States Air Force as well. To be fair though, had Percy been in Stark's shoes he would have done the exact same thing. Civilian involvement in military deployments was deplorable, and innocent casualties were inexcusable. He had been moments away from calling Coulson and demanding deployment himself had Stark not intervened when he had.

Of course this also meant that Obadiah Stane, the man that SHIELD had slowly but surely been building a case against, in order to take him and all of his men down, redoubled his efforts in putting down Stark.

During his research into the files on Stane's phone, Percy came across something called:

Project: Iron Monger

Further investigation led Percy to believe that Stane was attempting to build his own version of the armor that stark had created, thus leading to Coulson heading to Stark industries to investigate.

He had been about to turn in for the night when he got the frantic call from Coulson for immediate back up. He had called in a threat level 5; that was not good. SHIELD used a tiered threat system starting at 1, cat in a tree, to a 7, which Percy had learned to essentially assume that meant nuclear war. There had never been a threat level higher than 6, and even those were incessantly rare. So for Coulson to call in a 5 meant that some serious badness was going down.

Percy finished snapping the last of his tactical gear into place as the telltale sound of a helicopter made its way directly over the roof of the safe house. Climbing up the rickety escape ladder, which came out of a small hidden panel in the roof of his bedroom, he made his way to the top of the building. Climbing to the top just as the bird touched down, the propellers kicked up dust and twigs into the air, and if you've never been very close to a helicopter then consider yourself lucky cause boy are they loud.

Hu hustled over as the doors to the side were thrown open, he clambered in and was barely settled in his seat when a pair of headphones were thrust into his hands. _"Where are they"_ he yelled into the microphone, once the headpiece was safely perched on his head. _"North side of the building, you'll be inserting from the roof"_ came the response from the copilot.

" _Got an estimate for how many there are?"_ Percy asked, part of the reason for his needed being there was that Coulson, who had been attempting to get miss Pepper Potts out of the building, had been bogged down by some of Stane's private security force. _"Somewhere between 5 and 500"_ Came the snarky reply. Pilots's man, anybody who worked in the sky was, by definition, an arrogant ass. Wonder where that comes from.

Electing to ignore the pretentious pilot, Percy instead shifted his focus to the pistol strapped to the holster in his leg. Pulling it out he examined the magazine for what felt like the twelfth time, he forgot to do it once when he was fresh out of training and nearly got him and his entire team killed as a result.

Sliding it back into place he checked his other leg holster, and made sure that both his additional magazines were in there, and that both were full. At 12 rounds each he had 36 total rounds of ammunition, that wasn't a lot but he also didn't want to bring anything more heavy duty than a pistol with him.

He didn't have the luxury of moving slowly and effectively with a rifle, he needed to be able to move hard and fast, and take down targets efficiently without stopping. A pistol would be his best bet at the moment.

His fingers unconsciously moved to his right pocket, and found, as he often did before a combat mission, that he missed the once familiar weight that once sat there.

He couldn't dwell on it for too long however, as soon the copilots voice was in his ear once again. _"We're gonna be doing this the hard way unfortunately"_ he said, as we swerved suddenly to the right, and I saw what looked to be Stark, as well as a much larger and bulkier version of his suit, fly off towards LA, _"As you can see, the LZ is too hot for a landing so we're gonna have to do a no-stop-drop."_

That was not great, things must have been worse down there than he originally thought if they were too worried to do a proper drop. Biting back a sigh he stood, hunched over due to the cramped space of the little compartment, and waited.

The helicopter made a sweeping climb and suddenly they were over the rooftop, he waited just long enough to appreciate the difficulty of the maneuver being made before he jumped, fell about 10 feet and hit the ground in a roll.

Using the momentum from the landing and the roll he launched himself at the siding of the roof, gripping it with both hands before flipping upside-down and reversing his grip so he was now facing away from the building. He allowed himself to fall backward, kicking his feet forward as he fell, effectively shattering the window in front of him.

Letting go of the roof as his feet broke through the window he was able to throw himself into the building, rolling again as he hit the ground before shooting upright and sprinting forward, towards the sound of gunfire. He wasn't thinking so much as he was acting and allowing his body to react as he turned sharply left and jumped over a bannister towards the ground bellow.

His battle-born instincts were second to none and had never let him down before, he was at his best when he allowed his body to simply act to the oncoming world around him rather than rationalizing and analyzing every move. He'd driven some people pretty crazy with the thought process before.

Landing in a crouch before taking off again he veered hard to the right as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, three shadows moving quickly in the direction of the shooting. He simply let experience take over from there as blitzed the unsuspecting the three men in dark suits and earpieces, sub-machine guns at the ready.

Before the first man could even acknowledge Percy's existence, Percy had leveled him with a hard kick that sent the man and his shattered ribcage sprawling in the other direction. Percy the grabbed the shocked second man by the tie and pulled down hunching both himself and his victim over into a crouch as bullets whizzed through the air in the space Percy's head had previously vacated. Throwing a hard punch to the knee of the ducking man that likely shattered his kneecap, causing the man to cry out in pain, Percy then stood up, twisting as he did so and twisting the man's tie around his neck like a noose, choking him. As he did this he pulled his pistol out of his holster and shot twice in the direction of the third man. Both bullets found their target and the man collapsed to the floor, dead. Finally he put the barrel of the weapon in the back of the wounded man he was holding and fired twice more. Ending his life as well.

The encounter had taken no more than a few seconds. Two men dead, and another critically hurt before you would even be able to process what you had seen.

He continued moving, hardly breaking stride as he weaved right and left in an effort to avoid needless confrontation. He was forced to take cover however when a group of men came bearing down on him, weapons blazing, from around a corner.

Hiding behind his makeshift cover, a small concrete pillar that he had to physically contort himself in order to get behind, he realized he only had one real option if he was looking to get to Coulson and Potts as quickly as possible. Screwing his eyes shut, and focusing on a mental image of the hallway ahead of him, a tricky thing to do when bullets are whizzing by your head thank you very much, and began to force his will out, reaching across the hallway and filling every available space.

He could feel the power flowing through him now, the familiar tingle that started at the base of his neck and spread like a wildfire throughout the rest of his being. Picturing in his head exactly what he wished, he extended his will outwards once again, more forcefully this time and with a very different purpose.

Before they could even turn around, a large eight foot tendril of water materialized out of the air behind the armed men, and with a swing of his arm the tendril slapped at the men with force of a semi, sending them careening through the air, before colliding with the adjacent wall and crumpling to the crowd, broken.

Wasting no time, Percy sprung to his feet and bounded down the hall once more. Coming to an arched doorway near the end of a particularly long corridor, the sound of gunfire was at its loudest. It was coming from the room before Percy. Focusing his will once more on the ceiling of the building, he formed a small reflective pool on its surface, and quickly surveyed the room.

There were nine targets in total, all with their backs facing away from him, he would have a clear line on at least four of them before he would need to seek additional cover. Additionally, their attention is so focused on the people in the room ahead of them that any reaction to flanking fire would take several seconds to yield any sort of a response. Seconds that he fully intended utilize in his benefit.

Again, normally Percy wasn't much of a "planning" guy, but when hostages or civilians were involved then it was a very different kind of game.

Steeling himself, and doing a quick count of the bullets left in his mag, eight plus one in the chamber, he turned around and burst into the room at full speed.

There were two directly in front of him the he dropped immediately with four quick alternating shots in the back. Leaping over one of the slouching bodies, he tackled a third man as he began to turn around. Percy then slammed him in the throat with the barrel of his gun before unloading a round directly into the man's forehead. Percy ignored the spray of gore that made its way onto his chest and face as he rolled over, pulling the body of the third man with as he did so, just a spray of gunfire erupted into the dead man's back. With a mighty push, he launched the body at the source of the shooting, rolling into a crouch as he did so. The fourth man tried to leap out of the way but was met with two more rounds from Percy's gun and he dropped to the floor. He then stood up, maintaining a slight hunch and moved toward the nearest cover, an overturned cafeteria table; he hadn't even realized the room that he had entered was the building caf. Sliding right, to the end of the table he poked his around horizontally and fired off a shot at the legs of a man hustling across the room for cover. The round found its mark and the man collapsed in a yelp of both surprise and pain, although he wasn't feeling either for much longer as Percy then fired his last round into the man's side and he went limp.

Clearing his mag, he reached into the holster strapped to his left leg and pulled free a fresh clip and snapped it into place with a satisfying _CHR-CHIK._ Forming another reflection on the ceiling he located the remaining four targets, they were spread smartly across the room, no more than at least ten feet between two of them, which made things a little more complicated but not impossible. Taking a moment he also managed to locate Potts and Coulson, they were on the opposite side of the room, Coulson had his jacket off and a red smear on his usually impeccably white shirt indicated that he'd been hit, but it looked relatively minor all things considered.

Coulson, having clearly been looking for the new source of the shooting, located the reflecting pool and gave Percy a knowing nod. Percy grinned, well that certainly made things significantly easier, Percy had just been given permission to let loose a little bit.

Cracking his neck slightly, he began to focus his will on the room at large, specifically on the armed men, it had been a while since he'd attempted this but he was still pretty confident that he could do it. He just couldn't afford to lose concentration for even a second, because it could most certainly mean his own death. With the image of the backs of each of the four men firmly ingrained in his minds eye he extended his will and allowed himself to be encompassed by a swirl of water.

In the span of less than it takes to breathe, Percy was able to use the water in the air to disappear and reappear behind each of the men, shooting each one twice in the back, before finally appearing in a rush of bubbles behind Coulson and Potts.

Fixing a crooked little smile on his face he turned to the now very startled looking Pepper Potts and said,

"Hello there ma'am, I'm Agent Jackson and I'll be rescuing you today"

"They're flying" "An excellent observation" "I can't fly" "I'm aware of that, yes" "So what exactly do you expect me to do about it?" "You're creative, you'll figure something out." "…I think I hate you." "No you don't."

Percy glared at the quickly departing vehicle and felt the beginning of a headache gnaw at his temple. " _You're creative, you'll figure something out._ Jerk" He mocked petulantly under his breathe, as he turned away and faced the battle raging in the sky.

How in all hell was he going to help Stark end this stupid fight when he was nearly 6 stories above him in the clouds? He stretched his arms a little and cracked his neck, he needed loosen up a little, he'd been wound up tighter than a spring since the drop and he figured he ought to be looser for the upcoming conflict.

Deciding that he had wasted enough time and couldn't in good conscience put it off any longer, he ran back into the building, ignoring the minor destruction he and Coulson had caused along the way, and effectively retraced his steps until he reached a staircase leading his to the roof of the complex.

Stopping just underneath the flying metal monsters he tried to analyze them as best he could from where he stood. Contrary to popular belief, Percy wasn't stupid. Oblivious? Yes, irrational? Absolutely, stubborn? Like a mule, but stupid? No, he just didn't have the patience typically for long, drawn out battle plans that laid out every minute detail. He didn't have the attention span for that. He was, however, singularly gifted in generating on the spot and impromptu matters of strategic genius. He only hoped that he would be able to better utilize those assets before Stark got himself killed.

He quickly ruled out trying to meet them on their level, even if he could somehow get up to that altitude, not only would he be significantly drained, as any action used to get him that high would particularly draining even for him, but he would also be unable to maneuver in the ways that the two in the clouds were clearly able to. Additionally, he very clearly lacked the firepower and long-range energy attacks to even put up a fight with them on their turf.

Thus, he was going to have to bring the fight to him if he could.

Just as he was beginning to contemplate manipulating the water in the clouds to force them lower and lower something…unusual happened. Stark stopped pressing the attack, turned, and launched straight up into the atmosphere, with Stane hot on his trail.

It didn't take long for Percy to understand exactly what Stark was attempting to do, remembering what had happened a few weeks prior. Stark was banking on Stane falling prey to the same miscalculation he had made and therefore would not have made his suit resistant to the incredibly low temperatures of higher altitudes.

Percy's theory was proven right, a scant few seconds later as Stane and his suit shut down and began falling, hard and fast, back down to earth. Percy watched as the suit fell with a tremendous THUD, onto the concrete below, and as Stark landed a few hundred feet away from him on the roof, he couldn't help the thought that came to the forefront of his mind.

That had been entirely too easy.

In his experience, situations with what he taken to calling "big bads", or the guys that seemed to be the real life equivalent to final boss', never ever in the history of literally ever, ended as easily as that.

And sure enough, as soon as Percy began to advance towards Stark, who seemed to be talking to someone, Stane's enormous doppelganger erupted onto the roof behind Stark.

Percy didn't even have time to process what he was doing, his body merely reacted, as Stane's fist raised to strike at Stark, a massive wall of water erupted around the gigantic frame of Stane's suit. The wall turned and curved around the suit before anyone could react and soon encapsulated Stane in a giant ball of water.

Stark rounded on Percy his eyes wide, a dribble of blood coming from the corner of his mouth, "Who the hell are you?" he shouted, as he shifted his feet into a defensive stance and readied himself against a new potential opponent. If he hadn't been straining so much to keep Stane contained, as he was continuously smashing against his watery prison in the hopes of breaking free, then Percy would have snarked back a reply.

However even he knew that now was not the time for witty banter, "Introductions later; plan now!" he barked over to Stark, "All you need to know is I'm a friend of Agent Coulson's, is there any way to break through that armor?" he shouted, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. Stark paused, likely running through his options and trying to decide if he could trust this random stranger or not, looking back at Stane, who was getting closer and closer to breaking free, he made up his mind.

"No, unless you're little water trick can bust through 12 inches of tungsten then we're not breaking through at any point." Damn, that sucked. Percy had hoped, after seeing the obvious circular power generator looking thing on the center of his chest, that this would have simply followed videogame logic and that was the weak point. "Alright, any other bright ideas then genius?" he shouted over, Stark once again, adopted a look of contemplation, it was the same look Percy had seen for months as Stark built the suit.

Stark grimaced, and said slowly "He can't hear us in that can he?" "No, but if you don't come up with something in the next 30 seconds or so he's going to break free and it's not going to matter one way or another, what's your plan?" Stark hesitated again, annoyingly out of character for someone Percy knew always-just spoke without thinking, he ignored the blatant irony of that statement. "There's an arc reactor in the basement, it's what powers the suits, if we can overload the reactor we can blast through the roof, if one of us can get to the center console and open up all of the circuits we can use the master bypass to overload the entire system and fry everything up here."

Ok that was a pretty solid play if you overlooked just one obvious flaw, "I'm guessing that whoever stays up here to keep the Iron-Giant here busy likely gets fried too?" Stark just nodded. Ok, not great, but Percy could feel his control starting to slip, and the ball starting to fracture, so he quickly he made up his mind.

"Get down there and cook this goose then, I'll keep him busy, long enough for you to fry him." Stark looked like he wanted to comment, like he wanted to protest the action, but Percy knew that he was a coldly logical man, he clearly understood what needed to happen here and he seemed to understand that Percy was not going to budge in his decision.

So instead he merely nodded, a glimmer of respect and gratefulness in his eyes to the man he didn't even know the name of, who was willing to give up his life for his. Sparing one last look at his one-time friend, Stark closed his helmet and dropped down to the floor below.

Once Stark was out of sight, Percy dropped the ball and dove behind a concrete pillar to his right, Stane's back was to him so he would have a moment to catch his breathe before Stane came after him.

A normal person, Percy reasoned, would probably not be this calm in this situation, this calm in the face of their own untimely demise. They would likely panic, or even freeze up and shut down completely. Percy was not most people. He had stared the abyss in the face and not been the one to blink; he had cheated the boatman out of his soul one too many times. It helped that he was about twice as durable as even the toughest mortals, he was pretty confident in his ability to come out of this situation relatively alive.

" _I don't know who the hell you are_ " came Stane's robotic voice, effectively bringing Percy out of his reverie, " _But you're not going to live long enough to regret that._ " Percy couldn't stop himself, "Oh my god, could you be any more of a cliché?" Damn him and his big freaking mouth.

Diving out of the way as a large metal fist came raining down on where he had been sitting moments before, he fell down in a roll and bounced back up into a crouch, before pushing off into a brief sprint and jumping as hard as he could onto the arm of the giant as it was raising its hand back up. Using his momentum from the jump, he swung his legs and propelled himself over the head of the suit. As he was coming down he wrapped his arms around the head of Stane and pulled with all his might, and slammed him into the ground. Not wasting anytime he cartwheeled over Stane's head so he was sitting on the man's stomach. Willing water to form on his knuckles, in a weird combination of water mixed martial artists gloves he delivered two punches as, as hard as he could throw, right into the faceplate.

He wasn't given time to celebrate his brief victory however, as a giant hand smacked right into open side, launching Percy through the air and skidding across the ground before coming to a stop. " _Di Immortales"_ he muttered under breath, spitting out a gob of blood as he did so. The ribs. Why was it always the gods be thrice damned ribs? Did bad guys do it intentionally? 'Cause it was sure starting to seem, and dammit did it feel like it too, that they were doing it intentionally.

Through his pain-clouded vision, he could see Stane slowly, and to Percy's minor and savage pleasure, wobbly get back to his feet. Stane looked to Percy before slowly making his way over, just as he was about to try and get up and move out of the way of the iron-clad juggernaut, the rocket propelled boots jumped to life and Stane flew right at him before Percy's battered body could fully process what was happening.

Percy couldn't stop the shout of pain as a massive metal gauntlet closed around his sternum, barely managing to keep his right arm free. Stane's voice growled out as he brought Percy up to his face. " _I will make you suffer for that, whelp."_ It was a stupid plan, one that he wasn't even sure would work, but he had made it this far in life on blind faith and sheer dumb luck so he went for it.

"You do realize" he began, his voice straining as he struggled to breathe, and he reached his free hand out hoping to keep Stane's attention long enough to get this done, "That you have hit every check on the list of 'overused villain clichés' right? Like, I feel very confident in saying that the only way you could be any more of a stereotype, would be if you actively sat in throne-y chair and cackled evilly over your villainous plots and stroked a pure white cat." He paused briefly, "You don't, right?"

As he was talking he subtly began manipulating the water in the air inside Stane's helmet, willing it to get hotter and hotter. He was hoping that he would be able to turn the inside of the helmet into the single most intense sauna of all time.

He succeeded.

With a cry of agony the metal arm that was enclosed around Percy suddenly let go and Percy collapsed to his knees as he attempted to collect himself. Meanwhile, Stane, who had stumbled back several paces and was no standing directly in front of a large circular window that looked down onto the large arc reactor in the room below Stane's suit hissed and Percy could hear the turning of gears as the chest plate rose up and uncovered the man underneath.

His face was bright red and beginning to blister from the severe heat he had been subjected to, blood was flowing smoothly from a massive cut in the side of his forehead as well as what looked to be a severely broken nose. His right eye was already swelling and his lip was busted.

Percy, mustering his remaining strength, jumped to his feet and pumped his legs as fast as could, reaching the titan in only a few strides, when he was right on top of him, Percy jumped and kicked his legs out in front of his body, smashing into the videogame weak spot on the chest of the armor. He watched, as he fell to the ground again, as Stane stumbled, his chest plate cracked from the force of the kick, and stepped right onto the window, which shattered under the sheer weight of the juggernaut. With a cry of surprise Stane, who's eyes were closed, both from the blood flowing into his eye and the heat all but welding them shut, and fell through the roof. At the last moment he threw an arm out in the hopes of holding onto the side of the roof, but it collapsed under him and Stane fell, with horrified shriek, right into the arc reactor, just as it was overloaded, shooting a beam of energy right into the sky.

The force of the subsequent shockwave launched Percy into the air, slamming him into the side of an air conditioning unit on the other side of the rooftop. He covered his eyes, as the light from the energy beam was nearly blinding and stayed like that for several moments until the last of the energy dissipated into the starry night, and as rolled over, his arms and legs spread eagle on the roof of the building, he took in the sudden, and deafening silence that permeated the area.

The encounter had not lasted long, but he had used a tremendous amount of power tonight and he was exhausted, which is why when he felt his eyelids suddenly become way too heavy, and the ground all too comfortable, he didn't fight it, he embraced the coming darkness and allowed it to swallow him whole.


	4. Meanwhile, Back at the Plot

A tremendous clap of thunder erupted over the cities darkened skyline, as the steady drops of rain increased in velocity. The _pitter-patter_ sound they made as they hit the ground, sounded not unlike a series of drummers, pounding away at a militaristic cadence. Another clap of thunder, this time accompanied by a streak of dark blue lightning rang out through the stormy night sky, illuminating a figure hunched over, and limping badly, as they ducked into a nearby alley.

Blood seeped from a wound in their shoulder, mixing with the rain into a fine watery stream of red, that tainted the silver attire that adorned the figures body; the blood dripped onto the pavement as they hobbled as quickly as they could, despite the quite clearly broken leg, into a small alcove in the side of the alley. They stopped, and attempted to catch their breath, and swallow the pain that was threatening to burst through the wall of adrenaline coursing through their body.

The figure was small, shorter than five feet, and had the young and underdeveloped features of a small child. A girl, who looked to be no older than thirteen, despite her young features there was something that set her apart, besides the silver tiara and the broken bow upon her back. What truly set her apart were her eyes, her dark green eyes burned with an age and wisdom and understanding that certainly did not belong on a thirteen year-old.

She gasped, shoving a fist into her mouth and biting down on it to stifle the sudden outcry, she had tried to set her leg back into place; however, there was nothing to do about it on that end. She would have to try and make it the rest of the way on foot, and she was still being followed; although, she was quite certain that she had momentarily lost her pursuers with the trick she had pulled back in the shopping center.

She needed to get to the camp, needed to warn her mistress, what was happening, whom they were targeting, people needed to know or more would soon fall. There was a plot, a dark plot; she didn't know who was behind it, or what their goals or ambitions were, but she knew enough to know that her people, her family, were in grave danger. She was aware of merely a few of their actions but she suspected, no she knew, that they had done much more than she was aware of.

She peered down the alley, wiping at her eyes and nose in a poor attempt to keep her senses sharp. Seeing no one, she stumbled into the open, doing her best to avoid the larger puddles and pools of water. She was certain that she had lost the group following her but a strict sense of caution and a healthy dose of paranoia had been drilled into her head a few centuries ago, while some may laugh at the notion it had kept her alive this long and she wasn't going to any more chances.

As she neared a dumpster at the end of the alley she heard it, a low growl followed by a series of puffs. Her pulse began to race, and the pain she had been feeling in both her shoulder and leg disappeared behind the explosion of sudden adrenaline flowing through her system. She stopped moving, pulling a small steel dagger out of the sheathe on the side of her pants. She gripped the hilt tightly in her hand as she moved slowly, and deliberately back into the small wall on the opposite side of the alley.

How had they found her? She had been certain that they would have been occupied for far longer than this…unless… she must have severely underestimated the sheer scale of the operation. To have enough hands on deck to deal with all of the officers that had arrived at the shopping center, and still have the numbers to coordinate additional search parties. The gravity of the situation slammed into her with the force of a locomotive, as understanding and a sense of finality began to overwhelm her being.

She needed to get word out, she needed to something, anything, so that maybe someone would be able to understand exactly what was happening, so that even if it was not her, that the message of emergency and the call to arms would reach the ears of those who needed to hear it the most.

She worked quickly, and by the time she was done, they were descending on her, large and angry German Shepherds tore down the alleyway; yelping, barking, and spitting as they bore down on her. She re-positioned her grip on her dagger and slid to her left as the first dog came down on her, slicing downward as she did so, slicing the beast open around the neck killing it instantly. Twirling the handle of the dagger around in her hand, she jabbed upwards as the second dog came in on her, the blade pierced the animal in the throat, blood spurting out onto her hand and the dagger, she pulled the dagger out, throwing the animal aside as she did so and prepared to square up to the third hound. However, because of her decreased mobility on the account of her leg, she was just too slow and was therefore unprepared when, as she completed the apex of her turn, the third Shepherd was already jumping through the air and towards her.

She wrapped her hands, still holding the dagger, around the muzzle of the animal as the pair fell to the ground, splashing water up into the air and drenching the two in the process. The dog yelped and snarled as it tried to bite at her exposed throat, but the girl held strong and with a push, slammed the dagger in the right ear of the dog. It shuddered briefly for a moment before going limp and collapsing on top of her, dead as a doorstop.

Letting out a breath she allowed her head to drop down into a small puddle under her, not even caring as the dirty water flooded over her. Blood was still pounding in her ears, effectively deafening her to the wider world around her, which is why she never heard the footsteps sneaking up behind her, and didn't notice the presence of the additional threats, until a pair of hand gripped the top of her silver tunic, and tugged her up before throwing her viciously across the alleyway and into the opposing brick wall.

A pitiful moan escaped her as she slouched over; her grasp on reality was beginning to slip as darkness began to creep at the corners of her vision. She fought to stave off the blackness as two figures approached from her from the alley. They were standing just outside of the dying light of a small tattoo parlor. She could make out almost no details, other than one was clearly male, and the other had the unmistakable curvatures of a woman. Standing just enough in the shadows so that they were still mostly hidden, the girl could tell just make out the slight bobbing of their heads, indicating that they were conversing, arguing if the aggressive stance the man on the left had suddenly taken.

Then, as quickly as they had started, the arguing ended, and the girl's assailants turned, so that they were facing slightly away from the bleeding and broken girl. A new figure, also a woman, if the gentle curvature in the newcomer's physique was any indication, idly made their way down the alleyway, towards the small group, before stopping just shy of the lone ray of light. While her features were also predominantly obscured, it was clear to see that she exuded an air of authority and power, this was not a woman to be trifled with.

The man turned and addresses the new woman, "Ma'am" he said curtly and professionally, "We've got her, what would you like us to do about her" the woman seemed to pause, as though she was considering her next words very carefully. Finally, after a brief respite she asked, "Has that fiasco at the mall been taken care of yet?" her voice was cold, sharp, and oozed of a powerful authority that said that you would listen.

If the man was taken aback by the sudden change in topic he didn't show it, "The officers at the scene were quickly taken care of, there wasn't any press there to worry about so we're in the clear at least in that regard. There was some significant structural damage to the building but we have some people working on it now. All in all there no casualties and we still managed to capture the target."

"All's well that ends well then, I suppose" was the woman's small reply "How much does she know?" "Nothing major, I don't think" came the other woman's small voice. The woman in charge rounded on her in turn, "You think, or you know?" was the quick and quiet response, and the leader began to bear down on the smaller woman. "Because there is a very, very important distinction; because either we have spent the last four hours chasing down a possible loose end, and have saved us a serious headache, or you have wasted my time, energy and resources on a GODDDAMN GOOSE CHASE THROUGH THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING MIDTOWN!" the end of her tirade was punctuated by another crack of lightening and roar of thunder.

The smaller woman was now positively shaking in fright, and the wounded girl could feel the sheer power rolling off of the leader in waves now. As she had been shouting, the woman had moved slightly so now she was in light of the parlor, and the girl had a better idea of who it was. She was tall, easily near six feet, and was powerfully built, although not in a way that detracted from her natural beauty, because make no mistake the woman before her was beautiful. From the way her auburn hair was shimmering in the light, giving the impression that the back of her head was engulfed in flames, to the way her stormy gray-eyes absolutely shined with anger and inner strength. She was terrifying to look at and yet the girl found she couldn't look away.

As though feeling the look being sent her way, the woman turned and directed her fierce gaze upon the wounded and broken girl, bleeding against the wall; she sighed, visibly calming down before saying, "We'll address your many failures tonight later, for now deal with it." "A-and h-how w-w-w-would you l-like us t-t-to do that Ma'am?" Stuttered the smaller woman; still shaking from the verbal thrashing she had just received.

Their leader glared at her, sending the smaller woman cowering once more, flipping her hair to the side, she turned on her heel and began making her way out of the alley. Saying as she did so, her voice the epitome of calm, cool, and collected, "Make sure no one finds this one, we can't afford a repeat of today." And then, just like that, she was gone.

The man sighed, and appeared to run a hand through his hair, "I really, really don't like her" he mumbled under his breath, his compatriot could only nod, as she was still to busy shaking to communicate more effectively.

The girl on the ground's vision began to cloud even further, and she fought to stay awake, fought to catch a good look at the man as walked into the light but it was no good, her vision was too blurred. She saw him reach into the waistband of his pants and pull of a long, silver, cylindrical object.

He kneeled down when he reached her, so that he too was now sitting in a pool of water, and she could just make out his voice as he said, "I'm sorry about all of this, you weren't supposed to get hurt, no one was supposed to get hurt…" he paused, searching for his next words. "You'll be at peace soon though" and he reached into his pocket pulling something out, but by now her eyes were closed and it was taking all of her willpower to merely keep breathing, but she understood the moment he slid the two coins into her hand.

An overwhelming and unexpected sense of peace washed over her, and she didn't understand it, why was she ok with this, she had failed and yet she felt…tranquil, light as a feather. She couldn't resist the small smile that made its way onto her lips, and in her state of utter tranquility she didn't hear the small _Ch-Chnk_ of a handgun.

BREAK

She flopped down onto the couch, utterly drained, and kicked her shoes off. She loved her father, she really did, but she absolutely abhorred the people he had to associate with. They gave "two-faced asshole" all new meaning; she was only kind of exaggerating when she said that her father's friends would be singing the praises of someone one moment, and equating them to human excrement the next.

It was simultaneously nauseating and migraine inducing, and she was glad that she was done. Piper McLean just didn't have her father's patience for nonsense, nor did she have his pension for the limelight. Instead, she would have been much happier spending the weekend on her couch with Jason, some Chinese food, and a crappy rom-com. But this weekend had meant a lot to her father, there were always a lot of really big names at these benefit dinners and she had promised him she would go.

It had been fun in its own right she supposed, though she was loathe to admit it, the more…ancient…part of her personality loved getting dolled up, loved the attention she got. She wasn't one to broadcast it, she did have a reputation to uphold after all, but everyone likes to look good every now and then, feel eyes and heads turn as they walk into a room. And boy had she managed to turn some head this weekend, she had even seen Tony Stark look her way at one point.

She bolted upright, all traces of weariness and fatigue suddenly and miraculously forgotten, Tony Stark, and more importantly his business partner, Obadiah Stane, had been there. While that normally wouldn't have been too noteworthy, there had been an occurrence, a small incident that had plagued her mind since it had happened. She had nearly forgotten in her fatigue but now she remembered it clear as though it had just happened.

At the dinner, when she had been beyond bored, beyond over dealing with the not-so subtle hints and hidden agendas of her father's associates, she had noticed him, standing alone near the back of the hall, his eyes glued to the small screen in front of him, doing his best, and succeeding she was just much more observant than any mortal could be, to appear as though he was simply another bored patron.

But Piper knew Percy Jackson, she knew his unruly black hair, and his beautiful stormy green eyes, it had been years but he was not someone that she could ever forget. Men like Percy tend to leave an impression. So when she saw him, she nearly lost her drink. No one had seen him in six years, attempts had been made to formulate search parties, but the gods had forbidden it, apparently they knew about his disappearance and were none-to concerned about it.

When confronted, even his mother seemed to know exactly where he had gone and what he was doing, it had been unsettling to the ones that called Percy friend, one moment he was there and the next he was just gone, like steam from the shower. Most curious of all of course, had been Annabeth's reaction, or perhaps, the lack thereof, for someone who had been essentially a husk with human skin when Piper first met her, all because Percy had disappeared then as well, and for someone who never seemed to leave his side once they were reunited, it was incredibly strange that her reaction was nothing more than quiet understanding.

Piper had been working up the courage to go and confront Percy, when suddenly he had gotten up, strode over to Stane and had done….something. She still was quite unsure as to what exactly he had done to facilitate the small incident the preempted his departure from the party, but she knew that he had done something to cause the collision between the senator and Stane, she just wasn't sure why. Percy wasn't the type of man to do something like that simply because he was bored, that just wasn't his style, and more to the point just what had he been doing there in the first place?

The entire situation had been just so unsettlingly bizarre, and Jason had been of no help when she called him, saying that even if the man she saw WAS in fact Percy, that whatever it was he was doing, or attempting to do was really none of their concern. Jason had not taken his sudden departure from Camp as well as others had, the two had bonded during the war and Percy's leaving without so much as a goodbye had been just another chapter in the Jason Grace book of abandonment.

But Piper was not about to just let this drop, this was a sign she knew it was, in their world there was no such thing as coincidence, and with the recent rumblings and rumors they could very well be at war again soon, and if that was indeed the case then they would need the help of their champion once more.

Standing up, her expression one of fierce determination, her beautiful features twisted into a knot of concentration; she strode over to her bag and pulled two golden drachmas out, before pulling a small water bottle she had saved from the after-party with her father, along with them. Throwing them into the air she tossed some of the leftover water onto them, saying as she did so:

"Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering and show me Jason Grace…" the drachma and water disappeared, seemingly vaporizing in midair before shifting and turning into something akin to a television monitor, Iris had made some upgrades in recent years and the quality of her messages was getting better all the time.

As the screen fizzled into life the image of a small bedroom in upstate New York filled the frame. It was small and modest, cheap furniture and small mementos of years and friends come and past decorated the floors and walls. And in the middle of the scene was a modest size bed, just the right size for two people to fit comfortably on. Lying, as he always did, on the right side of the bed, with his back facing the wall and his body facing the space where a second person may normally occupy, was Jason Grace.

He was fast asleep, a line of drool slowly working its way down the side of his chiseled, slightly whiskered jaw and onto the pillow as he snored lightly, sounding not unlike a small purring kitten. Piper couldn't keep the smile of her face if she tried. He really was perfect. However this was important and despite the late hour she knew that he would want to talk to her.

"Jase, hey Jase, wake up sweetheart" she tried, not softly but also not too loudly. Still he snored, unwilling or unable to hear her. Biting her lip as her eyes lit up slightly she decided to try a slightly different method, "Jase I'm having some trouble getting these pants off, will you please wake up and help me out?" Crude, yet unsurprisingly effective. He awoke with a start, a muscular hand coming up to wipe the line of drool from his mouth and to rub some of the sleep out of his eyes.

"Pipes? Baby that you?" his voice was low and husky from sleep, and she felt her insides twist painfully, gods she missed him. "Hey hon, yeah it's me sorry for waking you up." Immediately, upon hearing her voice, Jason was wide-awake, all traces of sleep vanishing as his body snapped to attention, Piper tried to ignore the shiver that travelled down her spine at the sight, down girl. "What's going on? Is everything all right? Are you in trouble? Do I need to come out there? You know I can and I damn well will, you just say the word and bam I'll be there."

She tried valiantly, really she did, to stifle the laugh that bubbled up at his ramblings, but she just couldn't and soon dissolved into laughter. Jason's face turned sour, though the small twinkle in his eyes and upwards curl at the corner of his mouth betrayed his real feelings of the matter he never did like being the butt of someone's joke but his annoyances never really worked when Piper was involved.

"As sweet as that is and as nice as that sounds, I'm fine, and I think you can last two more days. No I was just thinking…" she trailed off, unconsciously biting her lip, Jason turned up an eyebrow in consternation "about what exactly?" he asked warily, as though he knew exactly what she was about to say. He likely did too, which was the problem, unlike anyone she had ever met before, Jason understood her and how she thought better she herself did. At times this was a tremendous blessing and at others, an annoying curse.

"I was thinking that we maybe, possibly think about trying to get in touch with Percy-Wait before you say anything please just let me run you through my thought process" Jason had been about to interrupt, a look of indignant anger flashing over his face, his eyes seemed to spark shine in thinly veiled anger and she could of sworn that she saw faint traces of electricity race up and down his exposed flesh.

He looked at her carefully for a moment, before firmly setting his jaw and nodding gruffly at her, acquiescing her request to speak. She held back a small sigh of relief, this was always so difficult with him, children of the older and more powerful gods often inherited their temperament in addition to their power, it proved to be excessively aggravating at times.

She took a steadying breathe before continuing, "I got a call this morning from my sister Theresa, out in New York, apparently there was another death, that's the third demigod to die in as many months Jason, and before you say anything yes I already checked with Nico and they weren't attacked by any monster. They're being targeted Jase and its getting worse, this last one was a hunter."

That had gotten the desired effect, Jason's eyes widened and his mouth dropped considerably, before he quickly composed himself and adopted an expression of concentration. It was understandable, the disappearance of a few demigods, while tragic, was to be somewhat expected, it was a hazard of the life that they were unfortunate enough to live. For a huntress to be killed was not something to be taken lightly, they were essentially the special forces of their world, the elite. For one of them to be taken out by a monster spoke enough, but for something else? That did not bode well, the last hunter o fall at the hands of something that was not mythological or supernatural, well let's just say that things didn't exactly go well.

"Let's just say for the sake of argument then, that I agree wee need him, how do you propose we find him? This is the first time anyone has seen the man in six years, he won't be easy to pin down, the gods will be of no help and I seriously doubt that his mother would be willing to let us track him down and drag him back into this mess." Jason's face was screwed up in concentration as he talked, more to himself than Piper, as he ran through possibilities in tracking down the elusive prince of the sea.

"Well…" Piper began slowly, subtly willing her voice to be more compelling and compassionate, "I was thinking you could maybe talk to Thalia…" Jason blinked, the blinked again, a third blink, before you took a deep breathe and let out a bellowing laugh that seemed to reverberate off of the walls of the otherwise empty apartment. "You really think that she'd go track him down to try and bring him back? Kick his ass yeah that I could see but bring him back? Absolutely not, not after what he did, you know Thalia she already had trust issues with guys and then Percy just up and leaves without giving her so much as a goodbye, if she saw she'd kill him."

"Even she should understand the gravity of the situation!" Piper began hotly, a light flush making its way onto her cheeks, "We need him for this, he's been away the longest, and he'll be able to look at this objectively and will be a set of fresh eyes for the investigation. Besides if we can get both him and Annabeth-" "So that's what this is really about" Jason cut across her, understanding etching its way onto his face, "You're looking to get them back together"

Piper spluttered indignantly "I-I NO! T-that's, I-don't" she was fumbling over herself trying to think of a response but Jason beat her to it, "Piper you need to let it go, I understand that you want her to be happy, gods know I do too, but this is not the way of going about it, dragging him back into this is a sure-fire way to complicate her life more than it already is. Pipes, babe, I love you but you're channeling a bit too much of your mother at the moment"

She managed to regain her composure a moment later, though her cheeks were still stained with red, "Ok maybe I was hoping that bringing him back would maybe make things a little better for Annabeth but I really do think that he's our best option here! Especially since he's been trained now!" Jason groaned and let his face drop back onto his pillow, "Oh gods not this secret agent stuff again" more to himself than to Piper.

For the last several days Piper had been going over everything she had seen of Percy that night at the benefit dinner, and only one possibility ran through her head, that Percy was government agent. It made sense! The way he moved, the subtle observations, the quick-and brilliant tactical decisions, the freaking dry martini! Jason had of course laughed at her the moment she brought this up, because seriously, Percy-can't sit still or pay attention for more than fifteen seconds-Jackson being a super secret James Bond esque agent was preposterous.

"Look" She began, choosing to avoid what would undoubtedly be another pointless argument, "Maybe we should ask Annabeth what she thinks about all of this" "Piper…" "Even if you don't think it's a good idea I think that she'll agree with me here, she's rational she'll get it" "Piper!" "And besides, it's high time that the two of them stop running away from their problems and face them and each other again head on like the adults that they are!" "PIPER!" "What Jason?!" instead of saying anything, he looked rather pointedly behind her.

Whipping around Piper came face to face with a very nonplussed Annabeth Chase, her demeanor portraying a false sense of calm but her storm gray eyes betraying the anger that was flashing through her. She looked behind Piper and Piper was sure she felt Jason's flinch at the steely-eyed gaze, "I'll uh call you in the morning Pipes…" and then she the familiar sloshing sounded in her ears as Jason cut off the connection. That rat bastard…

"So" Annabeth began, looking in that moment, every bit the image of her terrifying mother, "something you'd like to say to me?" Piper gulped, her mouth now suddenly dry, there was just something about the way Annabeth was standing at her, her arms crossed and her glare penetrating her very being, that resonated with her, helped her understand just how she had managed to make it as far as she had, given everything she had gone through.

"Hey there um Annabeth, so how was work?" she began rather lamely, Annabeth opted not to answer, instead intensifying her glare, Piper shuddered briefly, "ok, so uh, how-how much did you hear then?" Annabeth crossed her arms as she answered, "Came in sometime around you claiming I wasn't adult enough to face my problems, care to explain just what the Hades you meant by that?"

"I-uh, I-just, oh gods ok um…" "Just spit it out for the sake of the gods Piper" "Percy's still hot!" well, that couldn't have been any more uncomfortable. Piper really didn't have control over herself when she was nervous, and had a bad habit of simply blurting out whatever came to mind in a word vomit-like mess.

Annabeth, raised an eyebrow, "ok…" she started slowly, clearly unsure as to what the hell that meant, "I'm going to assume that you saw him the other day?" a nod, "and that was what you and Jason were arguing about?" another nod "and that you want to approach him because you think that he'd both be helpful to figuring out just what Hades has been going on the last few weeks and also because you not-so-secretly want to jump the two of us back together." A third nod, nobody could ever accuse Annabeth of not being observant.

Piper waited for it; the explosion, the screaming, yelling, ranting and raving. It never came, instead, she merely sighed and walked over to the kitchen slipping her heels off as she did so. She continued to remain silent as she poured herself a generous helping of wine and settled herself on the other side of the couch, facing piper. She took a healthy sip of the wine and, after a moments contemplation she addressed Piper.

"It's a good idea, we don't really know what we're up against here and it would be nice to have a couple of our big guns in the hold should anything happen. I'm not exactly sure what he'll have to say about all of this, I can't imagine he'll be all too thrilled about the idea of coming back into tis world, but it certainly can't hurt anything to try."

By this point, Piper's eyes were threatening to break out of her skull, "Wait!" She blurted out before she could stop herself, and seeing Annabeth turn her attention to her fully, she plowed on ahead before she lost her nerve, "How are you so ok about all of this?" Annabeth shot her a questioning look, but it was quickly replaced by dawning understanding, "I always forget that we never really explained ourselves." Annabeth said, more to herself than to Piper.

She took another sip of her wine, "You were expecting what, tears probably? Perhaps a little screaming or maybe some scathing remarks? Well I hate to break it to you Piper, but our ending was really pretty boring. Oh sure I heard all the rumors, that he was cheating on me that I was cheating on him, that one of us had the other under some kind of spell or even that I had fell in love with his long lost brother and he ran off to join the forces of Chaos the Creator."

Piper couldn't stop the snort that escaped her lips, "Yeah I know that one was really pretty ridiculous, but you get the point, everyone was expecting this extravagantly horrible story and the truth is, things just needed to end. I know that doesn't answer anything but for right now, that stays between Percy and myself."

Piper looked like she wanted to argue but held her tongue, if anyone deserved to have a little privacy it was Annabeth and Percy so she let the matter drop, "So do you think he'll be willing to help us?" Annabeth sat back in the couch, a thoughtful look clouding over her face, she was silent for a moment, her eyes flickering back and forth, "I think if we explain things properly, and we make sure that he knows that this is US asking him, not our parents, then he'll be much more likely to lend a hand. If he's still the man that I know he is then he won't just sit by as innocents are being slaughtered. It's just his way."

Piper nodded, she may have not known him as long as others, but she knew the kind of person Percy was, it was why she was a hopeful as she was that he would be able to help, "Where do you think we should start? It was pure luck that I saw him when I did, and I had my dad ask around a little and nobody at the dinner had ever seen him before. So he probably doesn't live around the area."

Annabeth only smiled, knowingly, an idea clearly taking form, "I think I have an idea."

BREAK

"You need a name"

"Absolutely not"

"They gave me a name!"

"And you're a narcissist with an ego the size of your checking account. You may need a cute nickname to satisfy your increasing sense of self-worth but I'm not that shallow"

"I'm impressed Jersey Shore, that actually sounded intelligent"

"Bite me"

It had been like this ever sense Percy had woken up in a hospital bed in Keck Medical, on the campus of USC; he and Stark began trading barbs and hadn't stopped in the few days they had been together. They were both discharged from the hospital relatively quickly, Stark had only suffered minor superficial wounds and Percy needed only a soak in a special bath tub supplied by SHIELD to be back at one-hundred percent.

Since then they had spent the last three days in one another's company, being debriefed by every governmentally funded acronym under the sun, or at least Stark had been, Percy merely flashed his SHIELD I.D. and he was instantly deferred to people who knew better. They were now sitting in a small waiting room outside at, the still partially destroyed, Stark Industries, where they were supposed to be preparing, or at least Stark was and Percy was just running him through the alibi again, for a press conference regarding the "Iron Man" as e had been dubbed. Percy had made a remark regarding the stupidity of the name and the bickering began again with renewed vigor.

Pepper had given up attempting to rein the two of them in, it was like dealing with puppies with the attention span to match. She just didn't have the willpower, especially after the week she had, to deal with their nonsense anymore. Instead she leaned against a cupboard and idly went through a series of documents on her phone as she attempted to do some more damage control, following the attack.

"Look, kid, bubby, junior, you. Are. A. Superhero. You can't, not have a name!"

Percy didn't even try to hide his momentous eye roll, "You mock my intelligence and yet you can't even grasp English grammar. No, I don't need a superhero name because for the millionth time; I'm not a damn superhero!" He had lost count how many times he had attempted to make this clear to the man-child in front of him.

"Oh I'm sorry, maybe I simply imagined the fact the you control freaking water, and seem like you can bench-press a small truck. Face it pal you're a bonafide superhero and now all you need is a superhero name and you can join the super exclusive club of super-powered badasses."

"Oh you mean the club of exactly one member?"

"It's exclusive but with the potential for future growth, this is a limited time offer junior so you better take me up on it" Percy checked his watch and opted not to respond. "Look, not-as-handsome-RDJ, as enjoyable as this is, we have to go, you remember your story?"

Stark petulantly rolled his eyes but acquiesced, "I spent the last several days in liquor induced coma on my yacht off the coast of Maui. Yes dad, I remember."

"That's a good boy, I'm proud of you" Percy had to get one more jab in, then he stood up and left Pepper and Stark to go and meet up with Coulson. He saw him, at the very back of the media room, the same room Stark had made his return address in only a few months before.

"Well he should be ready, but then again it is Stark so I'm not exactly confident in the matter but given the circumstances…" he trailed off, settling in silence for a moment, watching as the reporters and camera people fluttered around, preparing notebooks, recording devices and cameras for the coming speech.

"You're being given a few months off" Coulson's voice jarred him out of his observations, he had only been half listening but he could have sworn that he heard him say, "Time off?" he asked, incredulous. Coulson looked at him strangely before replying,

"You were supposed to get time off after your last job, but this came up, you were also pretty seriously injured as a direct result of the mission, of course you're being given time off why does that come as such a surprise to you?" Percy considered him for a moment, mouth still very much agape, and it took him a few moments in order to formulate his thoughts properly, his thoughts were still kind of wishy washy after his fight with Stane.

"I'm not sure, I guess I just figured that you would want me on Stark for the next few months, make sure he doesn't do anything , you know, Stark-like." Coulson chuckled a little; one of the few moments of actual human emotion he had ever really seen from is mentor, as they were talking, Percy noticed out of the corner of his eye that Stark had made his way to the podium and looked like he was about ready to speak, Percy tuned him out, choosing instead to focus on Coulson.

"We have someone else in mind for monitoring Stark, agent Romanov is currently working on establishing a full cover for a more up-close and personal watchmen role."

Percy, for the second time in only a few minutes, felt incredulous, "You're going to sick Nat on him? I thought that you wanted to protect him, not send him to an early grave." As much as he loved his friend, Natasha was not what one would call patient, or mild-mannered, or "take chauvinistic comments from a womanizing asshole" lightly. Ok, so maybe this was why Percy was being taken off of the case, and really, who was he to complain about getting time off. Time off meant time he could spend with his family, catch up on tv, and more importantly, nap. Napping was Percy's favorite, he often found himself daydreaming of naps, and of his soft, queen-sized bed that was just the right combination of soft and firm.

Unbidden a glazed little smile made its way onto his face, no doubt giving off the impression that something lewd was taking over his innermost thoughts, if only they knew.

"…I am Iron Man"

Wait what.


	5. Percy Gets a Surprise

*Disclaimer, All rights belong to Marvel Comics and Rick Riordan

It had been a cold and unproductive six weeks, the cold and windy rains of November had quickly turned to frozen wintery gales of December and New York had been hit by its now annual, snowstorm. The streets were a white and brown sludgy mixture of snow and mud that bogged cars down on the streets the plows had been unable to reach, and the sidewalks a slippery wet mess of slush and ice. It was certainly not the picturesque winter wonderland that is often proclaimed by news outlets and tourist boards.

Percy drew his thick coat closer around him as another gust of wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity. His heavy black, double-breasted peacoat did wonders for keeping him protected from the vindictive gales, he only wished that he had thought to bring a scarf along. It was well into the evening now and the wind seemed to only increase in intensity as the temperature dropped, and the scarf would have protected his exposed face, the small stubble that now graced his cheeks, a result from not having the willingness to shave for a few weeks, did nothing to protect his wind-chapped cheeks and lips.

He had been in a rush out the door, as always he had been running late to dinner with his family and had not thought to check to see what the weather would be like. The sun had been shinning all day and there hadn't been a cloud in the sky so he hadn't paid it much mind and thought to enjoy a walk in the nice winter evening. He was beginning to think he really was an idiot. How long had he lived in the city? He should have known better than this.

He turned left, into an alleyway that cut through as a shortcut to the street his apartment was on, he allowed himself a moment to relish the brevity from the lack of wind attacking his face. Absently he raised his hand and wiped away the liquid that had begun to accumulate in the stubble on his cheeks, he would need to shave when he got home, he thought absently, though he had been home for nearly two months now, he had not shaved or thoroughly groomed himself since his time in California and it was beginning to even grate his nerves. He also reasoned to himself that he would likely be put back into rotation after the holidays and would need to make himself presentable regardless.

He stepped over a small puddle and as he did so, couldn't help but catch the small screen playing in the television in the apartment over to his left. It was a re-run of the news conference some months ago where Stark had ousted himself as Iron Man. Percy shook his head absently; the media frenzy that erupted as a result of the debacle still hadn't quite simmered down. Nick Fury, the director in charge of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, or SHIELD for short, had been none too pleased that Percy had "allowed" Stark to reveal what was then considered to be a state secret on live TV.

Coulson, however, had been quick to jump to Percy's defense, assuring Fury that Percy had done everything correctly and that there was just "no way of accurately anticipating or understanding the logic or mindset of Tony Stark." Percy had bought Coulson his favorite Chardonnay as a thank you. That had been one crisis averted, but it was nothing compared to what he faced when he got home, for an entire year he had, had limited contact with his family, and then suddenly his mother had been notified that he was recovering from injuries sustained in the line of duty at a California hospital.

Needless to say, his mother had, had words with Percy. Though, she was considerably mollified when he assured her that he was being given considerable time off for leave, because he had been taken away so abruptly the first time, and because he had been legitimately injured.

His fight with the guards and with Stane had exhausted Percy more than he had anticipated. He was pretty out of shape when it came to using his powers and so he set about establishing a workout routine the minute he got home, while he was technically on vacation, he also wanted to make sure that he was never put in a similar position of helplessness again.

He had just made it through the alley, a new gust of wind nearly knocking him over as he stepped out of the safety of the alley, and turned left, he was only a block from his apartment. Had he been more focused on his surrounding, had he been paying attention, he would have stopped then and there. There was a quiet over the street, over the howling wind was nothing, utter silence. There weren't even lights on in the buildings looming over the streets.

But Percy had been so focused on getting home that he didn't notice the oddities, and was therefore, completely unprepared for the sudden weight that slammed into the back of legs, sending him sprawling into the street. The suddenness of the attack, in harmony with the cold and the biting wind, had his head spinning and his blurred his vision. He attempted to right himself into a kneeling position but was stopped by something biting into his ankle, pulling him away from the street and into Central Park.

Percy yelped kicking out and striking the hellhound in the snout, sending it sprawling, yelping and snarling as it sailed through the air. He stood up, his ankle bleeding profusely onto the snow and ice. The hellhound turned and took off in a dead sprint towards the parks center. Percy saw red, and gave chase. He still wasn't thinking clearly, he didn't consider for a moment the oddness of having a lone hellhound attacking him in the middle of New York, when he hadn't been attacked in years.

He followed it deeper and deeper into the park until they reached the middle, as they were running Percy had reached under his coat and pulled out his 9mm Glock model 17 handgun, from the holster above his belt, in the waistband of his pants. He stopped as he burst through the tree line. However after entering the small clearing there was no sign of the hellhound anywhere.

He didn't relax his stance; instead he extended his will out into the clearing beyond, willing himself to feel the through the frozen water on the ground. He felt the presence of at least seven pairs of feet, hidden amongst the trees in front of him. Lifting the gun slightly he pointed in the direction of some darkened branches just to his left and fired three shots, in quick succession, strafing left to right.

"Come out slowly with your hands above your head, or my next shots wont miss" Percy's voice had a distinct edge to it that left no room for argument, and slowly but surely Jason Grace, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Grover Underwood, Thalia Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Annabeth Chase walked out of their respective hiding places amongst the tree's their hands held high above their heads, at Nico's feet walked the hellhound that attacked Percy.

Percy's jaw clenched, and he swallowed the anger that was threatening to erupt, he needed answers, and he wouldn't allow himself to explode, not yet at least.

"Now that your overt display of machismo is over, you mind pointing that thing somewhere else Kelp Head" snarked Thalia, who still didn't look a day over seventeen. Percy made a show of not moving, making it look like he was thinking the decision over, he needed them to be aware that he was in control here, not them.

"You drop yours, I'll drop mine" he said again, making his voice sound as gravely as possible. "C'mon Perce, this isn't necessary man, is it?" Grover bleated out, some things never change, Percy thought with some amusement, "Sorry G-man but I'm afraid it is, I have a hard time trusting people who send a damn hellhound at me instead of calling like a normal person." His gun hadn't waivered from the area between where Leo and Grover were standing.

Jason and Annabeth shared a look before Jason said, with a certain degree of annoyance prevalent, "Do as he says guys" Thalia looked like she wanted to protest but a look and brief silent conversation from Annabeth changed her mind. Only once there was a distinct pile of weapons lying in the snow, did Percy lower the gun, and tuck it safely back in its holster in his waistband.

A silence fell over the clearing, and Percy noticed that even the wind had stopped blowing; everything was eerily still. Leo was, of course, the one to break the silence.

"So Percy, buddy, how's it going?" Percy couldn't help the look of incredulity that slipped onto his face, even the others turned to look at Leo with an air of utter exasperation "Ok, dumb question, fair enough" he muttered.

Percy turned his attention back to the group at large, focusing on Nico, "How'd they talk you into it?" It wasn't hard for Percy to understand exactly how they had located him, for one, he wasn't exactly hiding he also just wasn't throwing himself out there. For another, Nico was able to find just about anyone, anywhere, being able to travel anywhere you wanted with little effort made locating someone much easier.

Nico shrugged, boredom seeping onto his face, "You know Annabeth and Piper can get, I didn't want to have to deal with it." He said noncommittally. An unabashed snort escaped Percy; that made sense, Annabeth and Piper could be downright torturous when they wanted to be; Nico was a smart man.

Annabeth cleared her throat, directing everyone's attention towards her, she stepped forward slightly, with an air of certain, uncertainty. "Percy" she began slowly, "I-We…we need your help" Of course they did, that's what he was to this part of his life, a tool. He narrowed his eyes and looked between Grover and Nico respectively, judging by the hardening of their faces, they really were in it, and the problem was, if things were bad enough for the entire group to be brought out of retirement, then he would likely be involved sooner or later anyways.

Turning back to Annabeth, he sighed and turned around and began walking out of the park, "c'mon" he called over his shoulder as he walked, "I'm not talking about the newest threat to humanity in the cold and without a beer."

BREAK

Meanwhile….

Boston

"Rostam, I swear to all that is holy, contract or no contract, if you don't put out that goddamn cigarette I'm gonna come over there, and I'm not going to be held responsible for what happens." 6 pairs of eyes all shifted to the heavily armed man in the corner, his cigarette polluting the already grime and sweat stained air of the tiny van.

Erik Rostam stared, looking at some of his compatriots for a moment and, when he saw that they weren't going to be offering any assistance, quickly dropped and stamped out his cigarette. "Sorry man…didn't mean any offense, I'll just uh…yeah…" Rostam got only a grunt in response, Rostam averted his eyes; Derik Vandervort was every bit as intimidating as Rostam Parthia had been led to believe.

He was a tall man, well over six feet and built like an ox, mean as one too apparently. He had perfect completion rate though, never failed to deliver on a job and right now that was all that Rostam really cared about. This was going to be the biggest hit yet, over twenty-five cases worth of product, it was enough for them to finally end this the absurd sneaking and skulking that they had been subjecting themselves to.

Unfortunately though, because this was their fourth hit, the protection detail for this was supposed to be triple what the previous three had been, at least, if their source was to be believed.

Vandervort checked his watch before signaling to his team, as one, they all reached down and grabbed a black, featureless, plastic mask, before placing it over their heads. Rostam, finally catching the hint, did the same. The man closest to the door, Rostam forgot his name, gripped the handle and slid the door open before clambering out, followed by his five other team members, Rostam, and finally Vandervort.

This was an operation months in the making, they had spent hours of meticulous planning and spent even more surveying the delivery and transfer processes. As such they had everything they needed to know about what they were walking into, and had planned accordingly.

The truck carrying the product would be stopping at a small gas station just under the overpass where they were parked. The gas station was a front for their ongoing operations in the area, as it was the nearest hub to the production center where the product was, and it would be here that the twenty-five cases would sorted and quickly distributed to five separate trucks, afterwards they would drive each in five separate directions until they met up with an additional five trucks where the product would once again be redistributed, before they took off to their final destinations.

The truck coming from the production plant had a guard of at least four men in the vehicle itself, it also composed of an advance and rear guard of two decoy vehicles, armed with four guards each, these twelve guards would be supplemented by eight men in the station, as well the two men per five outgoing trucks, for a total of thirty guards at the station. Thirty very well armed guards, supplied with the best weapons available and the training to use them effectively.

Rostam looked over the edge of the concrete barrier overlooking the gas station, to anyone else the gas station would have been the epitome of normalcy; a sporadic collection of seemingly random vehicles and parties of strangers each content with the events of their and importance's of their own lives. Filing up their gas tanks for a weekend away, possibly going home for Christmas.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Rostam looked up and checked his watch; he glanced over and shared a look with Vandervort, before pulling a small flashlight out of his pocket and flashing it, in quick succession, six then one then six again. It was the agreed upon code to begin the operation and he soon received his reply in the same manner of quick flashes of light.

Nodding to himself he signaled to the rest of the team to get into position. They anchored themselves into their jump harnesses and waited. They waited for more than five minutes, and Rostam was starting to get worried, it should not have taken them this long to get the-

His thoughts were cut off abruptly as the sound of squealing rubber cut through the air, shattering the illusion of peace that had settled over the overpass. The station below erupted into a flurry of motion as the guards frantically scurried to get their weapons and assemble into their assigned defensive positions. But it was to late, the sedan, which had been laid down with several additional canisters of nitroglycerin.

The car slammed into one of the fuel pumps just as one of the guards managed to pull free his rifle from the confines of his vehicle. The pump exploded and fire shot into through the station as the guards yelled and tried to orient themselves in the sudden chaos.

There was no worry in the mind of Rostam for the safety of the product, the transport vehicles were so thickly plated with fire retardant armor and bullet proof plating that not even a direct hit from anti-vehicular weaponry would damage the contents inside.

Amidst the chaos and yelling, Vandervort gave the signal and the team repelled quickly down to the road below, the guards were so worried with the fire and dragging those who had been in the immediate blast zone away that they didn't notice the newcomers until it was far too late for them to do anything.

As soon as Rostam's boots hit the ground he brought his gun to bear, a Kriss Vector sub-machine gun or SMG, capable of firing over twelve-hundred rounds per minute and fitted with an extended stock, magazine, and suppressor. The suppressor seemed rather superfluous given the nature of the plan, authorities were going to be on their way and at the station in under seven minutes, but these were just firefighters, there was no need to get police involved if they could help it.

While the suppressor didn't cancel the sound of the shot being fired like in the movies or television, it did muffle the noise well enough, that it certainly didn't sound like a gun being fired. Even if this only garnered them a few additional seconds of brevity, a few seconds could spell the success or failure of the job.

Rostam chose to ignore the two guards pulling free the body of a now horribly burned and disfigured man from the blast-zone, and turned his sights on the two armed guards running out of the station, by the time they noticed Rostam's presence, he had already let loose a pair of shots from his SMG. The bullets ripped easily through the cotton shirt the man on the left was wearing and as the woman he'd come out of the station with comprehended what had happened to her colleague, Rostam shot her down with another burst.

He didn't even wait to confirm that the bullets had hit home, instead turning where he stood and dropping the two men who had been dragging their friend clear, they looked up, hearing the cries of surprise and death from their comrades, just in time to see the barrel of Rostam's Vector pointing at them.

After their swift and relatively painless end, Rostam turned and watched as the remains of the resistance was wiped out. As they had repelled from the freeway the second team had come around and flanked the station from the rear, choking the guards; the fighting hadn't lasted more than a minute.

The team unleashed a fury of gunfire on the remaining occupants, catching them off guard and in a crossfire as the second team came around the corner, blasting away the remaining soldiers. In a matter of less than a minute all thirty guards were dead, either from the blast or the sudden gunfire.

They didn't have much time and quickly set to work unloading the products from the armored vehicles, the twenty-five cases were rapidly grabbed and split amongst the two teams, before both groups turned away and hurried back to their ropes and clambered back up to the freeway and into their escape vehicles.

It had been quick, clean, and flawlessly executed. They would now drive some ten miles west, where they would ditch the van before cleaning and burning it and swapping for two additional transports. They would then turn around and head south until they were in Connecticut where they would regroup with the other team members.

Rostam pulled his mask off, as soon as he was back in the stale, foul-smelling van, and collapsed into his seat, his breathing heavy. He would have time to recollect his thoughts before they got to Connecticut, which would be enough to prepare him mentally for the last phase of the job.

Meanwhile…

New York

The group of eight had settled themselves nicely in Percy's apartment; Jason, Piper and Leo all took to the couch while Nico and Annabeth took the adjoining chairs, while Thalia was rummaging through Percy's fridge looking for something to drink.

"Gods, Kelp Head why do you have so much beer? Should we be worried about something?" Said Thalia as she pulled out a box of beer. "Those are in case Logan comes over" said Percy from his spot, leaning against the countertop, facing out into the living room, and a freshly opened can of beer in his hand, "He drops by occasionally and if I don't have a thirty rack of Molson he gets upset, and when Logan gets annoyed it usually ends with me buying new furniture."

"Sounds like you need some better friends" Thalia muttered to herself, as she pulled out a couple cans pop, before walking into the living room and plopping herself down on the arm of the chair Annabeth was sitting in. "So…" Percy began after taking a large pull from his beer, "what is the world-ending crisis this time?" "This isn't a joking matter Percy, people are dead" said Annabeth hotly, as Jason's glare returned full force, "I'm actually only half joking here" came Percy's indignant reply

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't feel like you were completely out of options, so I'll ask again: who's trying to take over what, and why the hell do you need me for it?" Percy said, growing more and more irritated by the minute. Piper chose this moment to finally speak up, "Well…that's just the thing Percy…we're not exactly sure what's going on and it's why we're" she gestured around the room and vaguely pointed skyward, message clear, "kinda freaked."

She proceeded to pull out a series of manila folders from her purse and Percy, taking the unspoken cue, reached over and plucked them out of her hands. He set his beer down and opened the first, which turned out to be the Camp Half-Blood file on some kid named Jackson Kirby, he had been a son of Apollo before he died about three months ago at the age of twenty, the file said he'd died of a drug overdose, which raised an eyebrow. A result of the godly blood in their systems, typical mortal alcohols and narcotics didn't have the same effects on the body of demigods than on average mortals. Whoever this Kirby kid had been, he must have been involved in the drug trade somehow, no way he got his hands on enough of whatever it had been to kill him without being involved in either the shipping, or making.

But that raised another question, the file just said "overdose" it didn't specify what substance or substances he had been ingesting, he remembered to file that away for later and opened the second folder.

Sana Amant, daughter of Aphrodite, she had been just twenty as well, although her death was no "accident" as Kirby's seemingly had been, although she too had drugs in her system at the time of her death, again the drugs in question were not specified, but she had been shot, twice in the chest, and her body dumped in the Hudson before it was fished out later that same day. Percy narrowed his eyes, maybe they had a point here, and there was just something about this drug angle that was nagging at him, something wasn't right here.

With that in mind he opened the final folder and was certainly not expecting what he found. Gloria Ashfeld, born August 12, 1433, a hunter. Executed, one shot directly through the center of the forehead. Percy let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding; it was one thing to kill a hunter, but it was another thing entirely to kill one as old and experienced as she was.

Percy was finally beginning to understand the fear, the uncertainty that was plaguing the demigods in the room, there was a pattern here, and he too believed that these weren't by happenstance, but he had a question.

"Ok so this is really too bad and all." He started, "But I really don't see how any of this is my problem" That had been the very wrong thing to say, Thalia's whole demeanor shifted as she launched at him across the room, but Percy wasn't one of the most decorated agents around without cause. As she closed in, thunder literally rolling in her eyes, Percy ducked under her knife, and grasped onto her elbow and straightening it and twisting her arm causing her to drop the knife.

He then buried his knee in her stomach and she dropped to her knees. He tossed her over to the couch before pulling his gun out and pulled back the hammer and pointed it at Jason, who had jumped to his feet and looked ready to jump Percy if anything more happened, "Get out." He said simply.

Annabeth, who was busy trying to restrain Thalia from jumping back at Percy looked ready to murder, "Percy! What in the Hades is wrong with you! People are dying and you don't even care." "Of course I care." He retorted "But people like us are doubly susceptible to external threats, hardly my fault that they underestimated the mortals they were dealing with."

"What I don't care for, is being attacked in my own home. Get out." Jason was snarling now "So instead of running away now you're just avoiding it all together, that's just like you Jackson," Jason stepped forward, ignoring the firearm in Percy's hand and got right in his face, "The hell is your problem Grace?" demanded Percy, "My problem" said Jason, his voice a low growl, "is that people are dying, your people, and you couldn't seem to give any less of a damn about it!"

Jason's voice was near a shout by this point, "I don't give a damn? I don't? Since when have you? People like us die every damn day, buy you never see it, never hear about it, so you don't care. Out of sight out of mind right? But suddenly a couple of us die in their backyard and now it's my problem? Why not direct that anger at someone who actually deserves it?" "You're starting to sound like Luke"

That was low, intended to hurt and Thalia knew it, but she was saved from Percy's retort by a knock at the door. They had been exceptionally loud, it wasn't exactly a surprise, sighing he stowed away his pistol and walked to the door. He just hoped that it wasn't Carter again; he had a habit of being a bit of an asshole.

But it wasn't Carter, instead, when Percy opened the door, he was greeted by the tall, blonde, beautiful form of his neighbor Carol Danvers, her arms folder under her chest, her tanned skin clashing against the white, night-tee she was wearing, a look of a alerted concern across her face.

Percy felt awful now, she had clearly been in bed when she heard the shouting, he knew that she didn't get a lot of time off from work…whatever that was, she was more secretive about her chosen occupation than he was, something the two had bonded over recently.

"Hey Carol…" he started rubbing at his face tiredly, "I'm so sorry about all the noise, we'll try to keep it down" Her face contorted into a frown, and watched as her eyes danced between his waist, where he realized that he had only sheathed his pistol, not covered it back up, and the people behind him. The living room looked like it had been hit by a mini hurricane and both Jason and Thalia's expressions were murderous.

She looked back at him, an eyebrow raised, "Everything ok in there? Sounded like things were getting violent" Percy chuckled "Just a…a little misunderstanding" "Do most 'little misunderstandings' require you to pull your piece? If that's the case, remind me to never borrow your milk without asking again" she asked, a smile dancing at her lips as she shifted to lean against the door, but Percy could see that question in her eyes _Do you need some backup?_

Percy had pieced together a while ago that his neighbor was some form of military intelligence, spooks were always relatively easy to spot off duty, they were rigid, paranoid, always looking over their shoulder for someone who was coming after them. Percy recognized the signs because he saw them in himself, picking them up out of Carol's behavior hadn't been exactly difficult. It also wasn't a surprise that she had clearly figured as much out about him.

"So you are the milk thief," he said sagging to the other doorframe and crossing his arms, _all's good here, don't worry about it_ "Not my fault you don't lock your door well enough" _My door's unlocked, if things go south_ Percy smiled bashfully and lowered his head, he laughed quietly before looking her in the eye again, "But seriously Carol, it's all good, just a good, old fashioned, family argument." She looked in the room again "Is Sally in there? I haven't seen her in forever"

Carol and his mother had met shortly after Percy moved into the apartment. He had been in South America and his mother had come over to water his plants when they had met. They became friends far too quickly for Percy to be comfortable with, but that seemed to be his lot in life.

"No they're…ah…from my dad's side of the family." She looked back at him again, questioning once more, "I thought you didn't know your father?" and of course he had forgotten that his mother had let that one slip, he was getting sloppy. "I did some digging when I was younger and found his side of the family, I don't talk about it much because, as you can see" he gestured vaguely behind him, at the assembled masses watching the interaction, "We don't exactly get along all that well." She didn't looked convinced, "Look I'll give you a shout if they stir up any more trouble and you can come beat them up for me" he said with a smile and a laugh "She smirked back at him, her eyes dancing playfully "I'll hold you to that buddy. Night Percy." "Night Carol" and she turned walked back, but not before sending him one last meaningful look over her shoulder _I mean it,_ he nodded back _I know_ and she disappeared behind the door to her apartment.

Closing the door and rubbing tiredly at his eyes he turned back to face the room at large. "Ok" he began quietly, he really didn't want to disturb anyone else, "Are we all going to be calm? Or are there does anyone else feel like having a tantrum?" Leo looked as though he was ready to make a comment, but a look from Piper effectively killed whatever he was about to say or do. Instead it was Grover that spoke, his voice wavering slightly.

"Why are you so against helping us Percy, I thought we were your friends, I thought you cared." Percy sighed, feeling several years older all of a sudden. He wished he had just stayed he night at his mothers like she had suggested, avoided all of this nonsense altogether. He moved slowly back into the kitchen, dragging his feet as he went, and stooped into the fridge and grabbed another beer, popped the cap, and downed the drink in only a few gulps. When he was finished he turned back towards the assembled group and addressed them.

"You are my friends Grover, I care about every person in this room and no matter your individual feelings towards me, never doubt that I would sooner die than see any of you hurt. And as my friends, I respect your decisions and life choice, whatever they may be, and I expected that kindness to be returned in favor."

He was pacing now, hands in his pockets and head turned down, staring intently on his feet as he was talking. But here, he stopped, and when he raised his head his eyes were glowing an unnatural green, radiating in power and authority. "However, when I made the simple request, a request that has so far been granted completely by our parents, that I should be allowed to leave your world, for it is most assuredly now your world, not mine, that I would not be disturbed by your troubles and I wont disturb you with mine, that the only time we would meet in an official capacity would be if our two worlds collided. That was our deal. That was what was agreed upon."

"I am trying to live my life, trying to do what I can to make the mortal world a better place, to protect people, because that's all I know, all I've been taught, and so when I say that I understand and sympathize with your problem, it is simply not my problem. I'm sorry, but to me, it sounds like some of your people got tangled up in some things they shouldn't have, got in way too far over their head, and died for it, it's sad but that's what happens when you get involved with drug trafficking."

"That's just it though!" said Piper suddenly; "They weren't on crack, or coke, or heroin, hell they didn't even have traces of weed in their system! All we were able to find were trace amounts of Adderall and Xanax!"

Percy froze. His eyes widened and his breath hitched, actions that were noticed by Annabeth and Jason. "Does that mean something to you Percy?" asked Annabeth cautiously Percy rounded on her, weighing his options, "Are you positive that's what you found?" "Completely" she said, "And they didn't have prescriptions for either of those! You know how useless mortal drugs are for demigods, why would they be taking them if there wasn't some sort of connection!" Piper was nearly hysterical as she ranted. Jason, seeing her state, placed a calm hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a one armed hug. Her breathing slowed from the hysterical hyperventilating to a calmer rhythm.

Percy meanwhile was talking to himself under his breath, attempting to rationalize how this could have happened, "…There's just no way, there are only a handful of people who even know about it, and even then they're under such heavy guard that even people like us couldn't have…There's just no way…"

They were all trying to get his attention, talking over one another, Jason was still comforting Piper, and Grover had started bleating, Over the din that had re-erupted the sound of Percy's phone cut through the air like a bullet. It rang twice before Percy answered, the collection of demigods falling silent as they, once again, waited, taking umbrage in once again falling second party to Percy's social life.

"Jackson" he said simply into the phone, "Jackson" came Coulson's voice, but there was something wrong, whereas it normally it was the epitome of calm and composed, there was an edge to it, panic threating to creep into his otherwise dulcet tones. "We need you to come in now, a substation in Boston was just hit, we lost thirty agents and whoever they were made off with twenty-five cases of _Supprimere_ , I shouldn't have to tell you why this is a problem, get to Boston. We'll be waiting." There was a click, and the line went dead.

Percy looked at his phone, then at the expectant, waiting faces of the others in the room. He ran a hand through his ragged hair, and released a breath. This was bad, this so beyond bad that he didn't know if there were words to accurately articulate how utterly bad this situation was. But Percy did his best to articulate the situation in the manner that seemed most appropriate.

"We are so thoroughly fucked, you guys"


	6. The Tides Begin to Turn

After promising to explain everything when he got back, despite the many protests he received, Percy managed to usher all of the intruders out of his apartment quickly enough. He didn't waste any time putting together an overnight bag, he knew better than to think he would be getting any kind of sleep tonight. Instead he chose to pack up his spare magazines and his travel bag holding some of his more heavy-duty armaments.

He covered the two-hundred miles between New York and Boston on record time, SHIELD had called local police stations giving them the description of his vehicle and giving him clearance to go as fast as he dared to get to the gas station.

He pulled into the lot at roughly three in morning, and couldn't conceal the look of horror that creeped onto his face at the site before him. It looked like war had broken out in the small lot, smoke still poured thick and black from several of stalls, and Percy could make out dark outlines across the lot, the silhouettes of those unlucky enough to be in direct line of the blast. Their bodies had been laid out spread eagle, marking the ground in dark, sinister tattoo that brought an unholy fury unto Percy.

So much death, these had been good people, he had likely worked with some of them; he knew right then and there that he would stop at nothing until the monster responsible was brought swift and decisive justice.

He parked the car and took a deliberately moderate pace over to where Coulson was standing, talking to another black suited agent. If the sight had been horrific, the smell was worse, Percy's nostrils burned as the stench of burnt and burning flesh reached him. He managed to suppress a gag; he couldn't afford to display any weakness right now. Even now, as he walked, agents were turning to watch his approach. His deeds and tales of his missions had reached far and he had reached similar status of notoriety as Clint and Natasha, this meant that he was one of the go to agents to set an example. He needed to present a calm and collected seriousness, for the sake of everyone else.

He took in as much information as he could on his approach, by the most destroyed stall, the burnt husk of a sedan still sat, smoldering and cemented to the ground at the point of the collision. This meant that the car must have been laid down with an explosive of some sort, something that would be triggered by intense heat likely, Looking down he noticed shell casings, which meant that the car, as he had thought, had been nothing more than a diversionary tactic, something that would and did, catch the on guard shield agents off guard.

He turned his attention to the two transport vehicles nearest to him, there were precise shots taken at both sets of tires, whoever had been here hadn't wanted to take any chances of the drugs getting away.

They had known about the drugs, known about the facility, their plans, their diversionary tactics, when and where the largest quantity of the drugs would be. Percy ran a tired hand through his hair; this was very, very bad.

When he made it to Coulson, the senior agent had finished wrapping up his conversation with the younger agent and motioned for Percy to follow him. "I take it you've come to the same conclusion that I have." He said sharply, without preamble. His face was calm and professional but Percy could see the indignant fury behind his eyes. Normally Percy would have responded with a snappy retort, but he recognized the look. His people, his brothers and sisters, his family, had been attacked and he hadn't seen it coming or been able to prevent it. Percy knew Coulson well enough to know that he was taking these losses very personally.

"There is a mole somewhere in SHIELD" Percy answered immediately, purposefully keeping his voice low as he knelt to ground, under the pretense of fixing his shoelaces. It wouldn't do for anyone to overhear, especially not the newly discovered traitor.

"There is no other way that someone would have known about this location, what it was for, when and where the shipments would be coming and going, and how well guarded it would be without one." Coulson nodded at the analysis as a team from the morgue carried a pair of body bags past them, before loading them into the back of a waiting ambulance. Percy's chest clenched painfully and his eyes stung.

He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder and turned to see Coulson staring intently at him, the man understood what Percy was feeling, and Percy felt a wave of tension roll off of him that he hadn't realized he had been holding. Nodding his thanks they continued their walk.

"It gets worse, I'm afraid," said Percy, his voice a quiet muffle against the early morning air. "But first I'm going to need some information from you" Coulson nodded for Percy to continue, "This wasn't the first instance of an attack on drug shipments was it" Coulson took a moment to answer, choosing his next words very carefully, when he finally responded Percy almost didn't hear him, his voice so low, "No this was the fourth incident in a series of encounters that we had been watching, we-I, didn't think that they would get this bold this quickly though."

Percy nodded, "And in each incident there was a victim left at the scene right? A women, a man, and girl right?" he asked, Coulson nodded, understanding beginning to dawn on him as his eyes slowly widened. "They were yours, weren't they." He stated, more than asked. "Yes" replied Percy, more calmly than he felt, "I have reason to believe that this is not the work of mortals, but rather, an organized effort made by demigods."

"It makes sense." Said Coulson thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin absently, "Only your people can make effective use of the drugs, but why would they want so much? Unless…you don't think?" he trailed off, and Percy didn't look at him when he answered, "Whoever this is, and whatever their goals I know three things for certain: one, that that they are like me, two that SHIELD and SHIELD's agents are not the target here, but rather a means to an end and three, that whoever these people are, they're looking to create and sustain an army of highly focused, highly skilled demigods."

"I take it that you've already been contacted by your…family, about these matters then?" Coulson asked, the wind picked up again and above them thunder sunder crashed, loud and impressive. The two men hastily drew their coats closer together, an attempt to shield themselves from the sudden gale. Percy looked up, his brow furrowed and his eyes contemplative.

"Yes" He answered, "I had been approached by several of my older friends and family and had some information brought to my attention. I initially blew it off as absurd, as their underhanded attempt to draw me back into the fold, but clearly." He paused and gave a meaningful look around the decrepit lot, "I was too hasty in my judgments"

He reached into his jacket and withdrew the three files that Piper had given him that evening, and handed them to Coulson, "In here their files on the three who died. The first two had traces of the drug in their system, and were likely forced to overdose, I can't be sure about the third however because her, guardian, for lack of a better term, refused to allow an autopsy to be performed."

Coulson nodded, and accepted the files without a word, only once they were stowed inside his own jacket did he respond, "I'll get a team set on tracking their comings and goings for the last several months, see if we cant find any connections beyond the drug. If nothing else we may be able to determine where they got hold of it in the first place."

They had made it to the backside of the lot by this point, and were better shielded from the howling wind, "I'll also talk to the director about this…additional problem of ours. It appears we need to do some early spring-cleaning. What are you going to be doing?" normally, subordinate agents such as Percy wouldn't be caught dead giving their own orders on missions, however Percy was a special case. He was one of only a few of his kind in the entire organization, and he certainly had the highest clearance level. This meant that when situations arose where the two worlds met, Percy was often given free reign to do as he thought was right given the information at hand.

Percy looked at Coulson, speculating, "I need to address the family, part of the arrangement was we keep each other appraised when our worlds meet, they'll want to and need to know about these developments." He sighed, and scratched absently at his stubbled chin, "You'll want to start looking at O'Malley and Donohugh." He said, "They're working in logistics and are the most likely sources of any potential…leaks."

He felt sick, despite his estrangement they were still his family, he still cared for all of them, and even begin to believe that someone else was turning on them, it was a hard pill to swallow.

Coulson merely nodded in acknowledgment, then, unspoken, they both turned and began to walk back to their respective vehicles, intent on getting started with their respective missions, and avenging their fallen comrades. However, mid-step, Percy was engulfed in a brilliant and blinding white light, before he was thrown, quite unceremoniously, to the floor of a large ovular room, that looked not dissimilar to boardroom in an office building, the gods had a tendency to adopt aspects of the culture from which they were currently staying.

He hit the floor in a roll and sprung up, weapon drawn and at the ready, only to be staring at the amused and annoyed expressions, of the Gods of Olympus. He caught his dad's eye, only for a moment, and saw a mixture of amusement and pride at the sight of his son.

Percy stowed his weapon without comment, and let his eyes wander briefly around the room; nothing had changed since his previous visit here, which now seemed to have been a lifetime ago. He caught a glimpse of the group who had assembled to meet him the night before, over to his left. They were standing awkwardly, as though unsure of whether their presence there was really legitimate. Leo and Piper were still trying to wipe the sleep from their eyes; Percy was then reminded of how early it must have been.

He was brought out of his musings by the booming and thunderous voice of the King of Gods, Zeus. "Perseus Jackson, do you know why you have been summoned here?" He turned to look at the King; most others would have been in awe of the raw power that and authority that emanated from the godly form of the ruler of the heavens, but Percy was not most. Standing at a staggering two stories tall, Percy had to crane his neck to look upwards at the god. He was clad in an Armani suit, with a neatly trimmed beard and equally styled hair, he looked every bit the twenty-first century businessman. "Lord Zeus" he said promptly, before turning to address the stunningly beautiful women on his left, "Lady Hera" Unlike her husband, the Queen of the Gods was dressed in more traditional Greek attire, although it did nothing but accentuate her beauty. "Uncle" he said, to the gaunt and willowy figure seated next to Hera. Dressed more like he belonged in a mortuary he nodded at Percy.

Finally, Percy turned to address the most strangely attired figure in the room, looking not unlike a Parrothead who got lost on his way back from a Jimmy Buffet concert, Poseidon, King of the Seas was sporting a Hawaiian shirt, Bermuda shorts and a pair of flip flops. Percy couldn't hide the grin on his face as he said, "Hey dad, long time no see."

Poseidon's chuckle reverberated throughout the hall, seemingly filling the room with its boisterousness "Aye, my son, that it has" Percy then gestured vaguely around the room, before giving a two finger salute, "Everyone else, hope all is well", vague affirmations followed, before a clap of thunder brought the room back to heel and attention was once again focused on Zeus, who narrowed his eyes at Percy.

"I see you have grown no less petulant in your time away" he rumbled, "I will only repeat myself this once, do you understand why you have been summoned here?" Percy looked up at him, before slipping his coat off and tossing it vaguely off to the side, where a coat rack appeared just as it was about to hit the ground.

"I assume you wish to discuss the murders and their relation to what I was doing prior to my being summoned here, correct?" Zeus looked less than pleased by his rather flippant answer, but answered nonetheless, "That would be correct, a drug that enhances the abilities of demigods, allowing them to access aspects of their abilities they otherwise would be unable to is…worrying to say the least."

Of course, Percy thought to himself, it came down to the threat of Zeus's own power and authority, not the lives of others that concerned the King. Then again, Percy could hardly blame him, as he had only a few hours previously, written the entire situation off as not his problem, all the same, it irked him.

Percy was so lost in his own musings that he almost missed when Zeus resumed talking, "So, Perseus, as the liaison between our worlds, it was decided that you be consulted for your opinion on the matter, and furthermore what should be done to correct the matter." Zeus looked like he had swallowed a lemon, he had never been overly fond of Percy, and having to subjugate himself to the authority of a demigod would be difficult for any god, let alone one as proud as Zeus. Still, Percy knew better than to rub Zeus's face in it, agreement or not, Zeus still had the power to leave him as nothing more than a scorch mark on the floor should Percy be too biting in his response.

Taking a breath Percy began to pace back and forth, it was a habit he had picked up from where, he knew not, but he knew that it helped him think through problems whenever the answer was less than obvious. "Demigods are very clearly involved, that much is obvious" "Excuse me" came the strong and mischievous voice of Hermes, "But for those of us not in the know, mind explaining why it's s obvious demigods are responsible?"

Percy looked briefly at Zeus but was beaten to explaining it by the sun god Apollo, "The drug that two of the dead demigods were on is called _Supprimere_ , it was designed by Bruce Banner, meant to suppress his more…aggressive tendencies, and instead, it suppresses the more adversarial aspects of a demigods mind. Imagine the mortal drugs of Adderall and Xanax but times about ten and actually effective, it allows demigods to perform mentally at a level beyond that which they are normally capable of."

He trailed off, before sharing a meaningful look with Percy, what was left unsaid, however, was that the drug slowly sapped the user of their godly abilities, suppressing the metaphysical abilities that came with them, until eventually, Percy believed, the abilities would be gone fore good. It was why so much of it was being produced; Percy had friends in certain circles that wished to perfect the drug to dampen the effects of their latent natural abilities, especially the more destructive abilities. It was also why Percy struggled so much to fight to his fullest potential when on the drug, but because he was the only known active user of the drug, he was the only one to notice this long-term side effect. This also meant that only the director, whom Percy gave his reports to in person, and a small, select group of agents knew of these additional effects. Because these drugs had been stolen in such a quantity, told Percy that, whoever was stealing the drug, if they were, indeed, a demigod, didn't know about this aspect of the drug.

"And here I thought that you were only good for spawning bastards and spewing bad poetry" came the bitterly dry remark, to the right of Apollo. Artemis, Apollo's twin sister, sat, in the form of a small girl, looking utterly bored of the entire conversation, her silver eyes dull and listless as she stared blankly at her brother. There was something off about the moon goddess though, something that Percy couldn't place.

He quickly averted his eyes before turning his attention back to Apollo, it was probably just his imagination and he didn't want to be caught staring lest he be accused of having less than noble intentions, he tuned in just in time to hear Apollo respond, "I'm just full of surprises, you know being the god of medicine and all"

"Wait, are you on this drug Perseus?" asked his father sharply, his eyes shining briefly. Percy nodded in affirmation, "It's not a daily thing, I only take it when I need to be a little more focused, or if I've been awake for too long and need to stay sharp, it takes enough of the edge away that I can focus." Poseidon looked as though he had something to say to that but held his tongue, choosing to sit back in his throne and adopted an intensely thoughtful look.

"I don't very much care what this drug is or who is using it, someone is targeting demigods and building an army to oppose us. I would very much like this to be dealt with Perseus Jackson, and promptly" Zeus' voice cut across the room sharply, and he glowered down at Percy. Percy folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, "We've begun a preliminary investigation, but we don't have a lot to go on at the moment."

"That's not strictly true, is it Perseus?" came the sharp and tilted voice of Athena, goddess of wisdom and battle strategy, her dark stormy gray eyes gazing down at Percy, calculating and appraising him. He hated the way she stared at him, it never ceased to make him as uncomfortable as possible. "There is only one way that these insurgents would have known about your little drug, and where and when to strike so that they would receive as much of it as possible. There is a traitor in your organization, is there not?" That was the other thing, that whole goddess of wisdom thing was damn annoying.

Percy's jaw clenched painfully as every eye in the room turned to look towards him, he clenched his fist and looked Athena in the eye, he would not let her win this. "We have come to the conclusion that there is a strong possibility that SHIELD is having slight compromises in the internal security of classified information, and that those compromises have the potential to be coming from somewhere in the organization itself."

Hades snorted ruefully, "So the answer is yes, mortals, always so damn untrustworthy. Can't keep a secret to save their life." "Coming from you dear brother, that is truly an amusingly hypocritical observation" Poseidon responded bitingly. Hades clamped his mouth shut and began an in depth inspection of his own nails.

"As I was saying" cut in Athena, drawing the attention back to her, "Given the internal compromises of your organization I don't believe that you should be the one leading this investigation, additionally this is a matter of great importance, beyond the jurisdiction of mere mortals. We should have our own, look into these matters."

"Absolutely not" Came Percy's strong and fiery reply, and the temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees as Athena's glare turned positively murderous, "Be careful, young demigod, you had best remember to whom you are speaking" "I know perfectly well who I'm speaking to" Percy barked back at her, Athena had always hated him, always looked for ways to undermine him and his, but he would not let her simply walk all over him this time; goddess or not, they had all agreed to the arrangement and they were bound to abide by it.

"You agreed" Percy began, his eyes shining in anger "every one of you took an oath on the Styx itself to honor our agreement and the terms and conditions there within. These were mortal drugs, taken from my mortal organization. Demigods attacked my people; killed, my people. This is my jurisdiction and you will not butt into this investigation. I have kept to my part of the bargain and I damn well expect you to return the favor."

"This does not change the fact that your organization is to be held accountable for the situation, had it not been for mortals we wouldn't be in this position" replied Athena "We were only compromised because your child sold us out". A pin could drop and it would have been similar to a gunshot in the silence that descended upon the chamber.

Finally after a moment, Hades said, "That, is a very serious accusation that you are making Perseus, I hope that you have evidence to back up your claim." Percy nodded as he took a few deep breaths; he needed to calm himself before he said something even more stupid. "I can count one two hands the number of people in SHIELD who are even aware of their existence, of these, four of them are demigods themselves. Of those four, only two would have been privy to the information about the drug and its effects on demigods."

He then looked straight into the eyes of the War Goddess, "Both of them, are children of her lady, Athena." He couldn't quite keep the snarling bite out of his voice as he addressed her, and took a vindictive pleasure in seeing the flash of anger in her eyes, and the tightening of her muscles; were there not several other gods willing and able to intervene otherwise, she would have pounced and blown Percy away in a heartbeat.

"That is enough" roared Zeus, throwing down his Master Bolt with a heavy crash that brought the demigods to their knees, simultaneously covering their ears as they did so.

Zeus gave them all a moment to recover be speaking, commanding really, to Percy, "I trust that you're preliminary investigations into these accusations are being performed by those you trust?" Percy nodded, not trusting himself to speak, "Then for the moment, this council will leave these matters to you and yours" He didn't give Percy a moment to internally celebrate his victory, as Zeus' entire demeanor changed, growing colder as an aura of sheer unadulterated power swept through the room.

"But be warned Perseus, should matters begin to devolve further, we will have to intervene; divine law or not, our existence can not, under any circumstances, be jeopardized. Order must remain lest we allow the world to once again dissolve into chaos."

Percy had literally bite down on his tongue to prevent himself from pointing out that, like always, the earth had nearly fallen to darkness and chaos because of the gods' own ineptitude.

And with that said, a blindingly bright light filled Percy's vision once more, and he stumbled forward. His hands landed and grasped onto the roof of his car to prevent him from face planting completely.

A hand grasped onto the back of his coat and pulled him up as he righted himself and readjusted to the stark change in scenery. After taking a moment to collect himself he spoke, not entirely looking at Coulson. "How long was I gone?" "Only a few moments" came the reply, quiet, yet terse "not long enough for anyone to notice anything suspicious."

This wasn't the first time Percy had been brought unceremoniously to the gods domain, when he was summoned his physical body never actually left the living plane, and as such, it appeared as though he was only ever deep in thought for a few moments.

"What did they want" Coulson asked as they leaned against the side of his car. "They wanted to take control of the investigation" Percy replied "I wouldn't let them but we need to leads and we need them soon. They aren't known for their patience and a few in particular are looking for any excuse to discredit me"

"I'll begin looking into things as soon as-" "Agent Coulson! Sir!" The two turned and looked as a young, fresh-faced agent ran up to them, his blue eyes were wide and he looked extremely harried. "Sir, we think we found the ones responsible, a van matching the plates of the ones seen fleeing on the freeway was spotted outside a warehouse in New York"

Coulson wasted no time in reacting, "Get team three on standby, I want the building stormed and cleared by the time we get there, Jackson with me, this takes priority. Percy nodded and followed at a jog to Coulson's car, sliding into the passenger seat, and buckling himself into place, he could feel a headache coming on. It was going to be another very long night.

BREAK

The smell was overwhelming, it burned his nostrils and he had to forcibly remind himself to breath or else he was guaranteed to vomit, not that that was not already a very distinct possibility. The sight before him was something especially revolting, and something he had grown upsettingly used to in his line of work.

The warehouse was not large, only a few thousand square feet, but it felt about three times smaller than its actual size because of the blood and the bodies. He raised a small handkerchief to his mouth as his eyes flitted around; seven men, ages varying but all within three or four years of one another, likely between 26-30, and all in extremely good shape.

They were well armed too, compact assault guns and tac-gear, meaning they were professionals. But something was wrong here, there was a distinct lack of bullets, on the ground, if these men were indeed the professionals that Percy was confident they were, then surely they would have seen an attack coming, at the very least they should have reacted to an attack.

He turned and approached Coulson who was kneeling over one of the bodies, a paper mask over his mouth and plastic gloves on his hands. "These guys knew their attackers, were comfortable enough in their own security that they didn't expect betrayal. But whomever they were with didn't use conventional weapons; we're either dealing with Mutants or an enhanced.

Coulson didn't reply for a moment, instead focused his attention more on the body he was inspecting. After a quiet moment he motioned for Percy to approach. Percy walked briskly around the body, before kneeling down next to his superior, one hand on his knee the other still holding the thin cloth to his face.

Coulson raised the jacket covering the dead man's breast, and Percy's breath caught in his throat and his chest tightened. The man's chest was coated with a thick and hardened sheet of blood, turned near black; the cause of the mans wounds were three, identical holes, each roughly an inch long, and three inches deep, plunging deep within his chest.

Percy was intimately familiar with these kinds of wounds, there was only one weapon that caused this kind of damage, a simple bow and arrow. He slipped on a glove of his own as he reached down to get a closer look at the wounds when another agent, over to Percy's left, called out.

"Sir, we got a note here, it's pretty stained." Percy and Coulson shared a look before rising up and striding over to the agent, a woman in her late twenties, who Percy was not altogether familiar with. In her hand was a piece of blood stained parchment, not paper, but parchment, made from papyrus.

Percy's stomach dropped out of his chest again as the pieces began clicking in his mind, Coulson briefly studied the paper before thrusting it into Percy's hand, looking down Percy saw the reason, the letter was in Ancient Greek.

He read it. Then he re-read it. He read it an additional two more times, not really registering what he was looking at as he tried to squash the sudden tightened queasiness that was spreading through him. Looking down at the body he reached down and began grabbing at the insides of the dead mans flak jacket, he didn't recognize the man but that did nothing to stem the flow dread.

As his fingers closed on something sewn into a small pocket in the inside of the breast, he closed his eyes and muttered under his breath "Άνοιξε", he felt the pocket open and a small, wrapped package fell into his palm. Pulling his hand away he turned to Coulson, who gave him a nod in approval.

Percy grimaced and unwrapped the package with trepidation. Maybe it was the cynic in him, maybe it was just that he knew from the instant he'd seen the wounds on the other man what was going on, but he was viciously upset with how unsurprised he was when a shinning silver tiara fell out of the package and into his waiting palm.

Artemis' symbol of power, similar to Zeus' Master bolt, or his own father's Trident, was the symbol of her status as the Goddess of the Moon, without it, her position was in considerable jeopardy, and explained why she seemed so on edge during the meeting.

But why was it here, and who were these men, more importantly who killed them? And why did they leave the tiara here when presumably it was the entire purpose for the meeting, there too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

"Coulson" he started, his voice soft, and surprisingly calm, given the torrent raising inside of him, "You need to get a move on with your investigation" "Why, what's going on here Jackson, what is that and why is important enough to warrant two separate attacks."

Percy looked over at him, his green eyes now brimming with a furious urgency that was all too similar to the roaring seas, "We're about to be at war"

BREAK

Because he spent the majority of the next few days briefing and preparing Coulson for the job they were about to undertake, Percy didn't get home until around midnight, extremely exhausted, and more than a little stressed. He was getting tired of this whole 'end of the world' thing that never seemed to go away.

Whether just extreme apathy or pure exhaustion, it's not quiet clear, but Percy either missed or chose not to notice that his apartment was unlocked, and the TV was on, which most assuredly was not the case when he left.

Therefore, he was mildly surprised, and more than a little distressed to see two mops of red and golden hair, lounged out on his couch in his living room, watching his TV, eating his popcorn, and more importantly, drinking his beer.

"Took you long enough Jackson" came Natasha Romanov's low voice over the dull roar of the TV, "was beginning to wonder if you were even coming back" he ignored her, choosing instead to unceremoniously drop his bag on the counter, fish a beer out of the fridge, and drink all of it in one gulp, before repeating the process two more times.

When he was finished, he mournfully marched over to the couch and fell, more than sat, next to pretty, pajama clad figure of Carol. "Long day?" she asked, amused. His response came in the form of an all too piteous moan of affirmation that drew a smirk from the two women. "Oh boy, this must be bad," said Natasha, an absolutely feral smile on her face, " He doesn't even have the energy to think of a sassy comeback"

Carol playfully mussed up his hair, saying, "Poor thing is all tuckered out." Percy swatted her hand away, before finally opening his eyes to glare at the pair, "This, whatever this is, I don't like it. You two should never be allowed in the same room, least of all any that belong to me, and I absolutely forbid you two from being friends. My life is stressful enough as it is"

"I don't know which is cuter, your attempt at maintaining the shred of masculinity that you have left, or the notion that you can even begin to boss either of us around." Carol once again mussed up his hair as she said this, drawing a hearty "Hear, hear" from her new, red-headed friend.

Percy gave up trying to swat away Carol's hand, and he would be loathe to admit that it was because it was the single most relaxing thing he'd ever experienced. "Why are you even hear Nat, I thought you were still in Russia on that modeling thing." Despite being positive that Carol was in the intelligence business herself, there were still rules that needed to be adhered to, and you never knew who might be listening in.

It was in this respect that he gave Natasha room to tell him the pseudo cover story she'd adopted while she was here, allow her to play to her strengths while filling in Percy on the roles the two would be playing for Carol, or anyone else for that matter. "Gave it up, it was fun but decided that it was high time I try my hand on something a bit more legitimate. I have an interview for an administrative attendant position for Stark industries on Friday."

In his haze-filled state, it took Percy several moments to fully process, and then comprehend exactly what had just been said. When the information finally began to make sense in his head, he couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, which quickly became a rather hysterical fit of cackles.

Carol and Natasha shared a raised eyebrow as they watched Percy lose control of himself for a moment, when he finally managed to calm down slightly, although he was still giggling, he said, "Oh my god thank you, that's the single greatest thing I've heard, literally all month." He wiped a genuine tear from his eye as he composed himself, "Oh god, have fun with that."

He knew exactly what was going on there, Natasha was being prepped for a long-term undercover op, similar to what he had done but on a much more personal level. With Stark outing himself as Iron Man, SHIELD desperately needed someone on the inside watching over him and making sure he stayed on the straight and narrow. Given Stark's personality, a beautiful, nubile, young secretary would be the perfect cover.

"How long you need a place to crash?" "At least through the week, figured you'd probably be out of town most of the week as it was." Percy nodded, closing his eyes again as Carol, who had been half paying attention, half watching TV, continued absently running her hands through Percy's hair, "Well the bedroom is yours, I don't think I could even move from right here, right now, even if I wanted to."

Natasha knew better than to argue with him so merely raised her bottle in mute thanks, "What about you goldilocks, what brings you around, not that I'm complaining" he added hastily. His eyes were closed but he could feel the smug smirk that was laying on her lips. "Caught Natalie" Ah, so Nat was using the Rushman angle "breaking in, we talked it out, and decided to have TV night since you ditched out on the last one."

The end of her statement was punctuated by a small, good-natured kick against the side of his leg. Percy flinched, he had completely forgotten about it in his rush to Boston. The pair had been habitually watching TV together whenever they were on leave, and he was loathe to ever miss it, it was one of the small pleasures in his life not associated with his family.

"I'm sorry about that." He said, "I just got suddenly called to work and it completely slipped my mind, I will make it up to you though, I promise" "You'd better Jackson" She said, but her smile said that she was pleased about it.

He knew that he should have been more stressed, that he should have gone to bed and focused on the coming days, that things were very quickly heading in a direction in which there was no going back, but as Carol shifted in her seat so her legs were propped up in his lap, and as he sank lower in the couch and listened to Nat as she commented on the irrationality of one of the characters fighting in high heels, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

For right now, everything was right in the world, and he was going to savior every last second of it.

BREAK

Rostam walked into the large office overlooking the harbor, he had just gotten out of the shower and his hair was still wet, but at least he had gotten the dried blood out. She wasn't' looking at him as he walked in, instead, she was looking out the large windows, inspecting the moon, as it reflected on the water.

"I trust everything went off without a hitch" she said, her voice was soft, almost reverent, "Yes ma'am, everything went exactly as planned." "Good" she said, still not turning to face him, the light from the moon was now glancing off her flowing, blood-red hair, giving it in ethereal quality.

"Soon enough they will be so busy killing themselves, that they won't even see the real threat until it's much too late. And what about the other developments, was Jackson assigned to the case?"

"Yes ma'am, our source in SHIELD told us that Coulson gave priority to Jackson almost immediately."

He couldn't see, so much as feel the malicious grin on her face, "Excellent work Rostam, you have made me very proud. Now, I need you to contact our friends, tell them that Jackson is to be taken care of immediately, no delays."

He hesitated, he was still very much unsure in regards to this portion of the plan, "Ma'am, if I may, I still don't understand why we can t take care of Jackson ourselves, surely our own soldiers could-"

"You greatly underestimate Percy Jackson" she said sharply, cutting him off, "No, as much faith as I have in our soldiers, and in you, Percy Jackson cannot be taken down by the likes of us, in the very likely event that whomever we assigned to the task would fail, Jackson's and SHIELD's attention would swing in our direction, we cannot afford to be discovered until the timing is right. You will listen to me, and do as I ask Rostam, I promise, we will have our revenge. Now get to work"

"Yes ma'am" Rostam relied, before sharply turning and leaving the office, and the woman alone. "Soon" she said quietly to herself, once the doors had closed and she was by herself again,

"Soon the moment of our great victory will be at hand and the revenge we have waited for, for over two millennia will ours. Greece will fall and from her ashes, the great Persian Empire will be rebuilt."


	7. It All Comes Crashing Down

Percy was roused from his sleep to the sound of sizzling bacon, and the smell of breakfast. Groaning, he was slightly confused, and more than a little groggy, he sat up on the couch he had fallen asleep on and glanced back towards the Kitchen. Natasha was behind the stove, a scooping the pile of bacon from the skillet onto a plate. "Are you actually cooking something right now?" he asked, a little incredulous. In all the time he had known her he had never once seen her cook anything more than field rations much less real people food.

At the sound of his voice she turned around, and raised a carefully, and finely plucked brow, "One of my many talents, there are others but if I told you, I'd have to kill you." He couldn't quite stop the scoff that escaped him. Femme fetal his foot, "Does that actually work on anyone?" "You'd be surprised what a little intrigue and some fluttering lashes can do to a man." A loose chuckle fell from his lips, and he slouched back on the couch for moment, covering his eyes with his forearm. "For some reason I doubt that, kind of like I doubt you really need suspense and mystery to seduce a man."

She tossed a coy smile over her shoulder as she doctored her coffee, Girl's gotta have her fun somehow" she finished with her coffee and turned to address Percy's limp form on the couch, "Speaking of which, you and Carol were looking awfully cozy last night, something going on there? Do we need to have a talk? I know these things are scary for someone so inexperienced but I can assure you that these feelings are perfectly natural for a boy your age."

He deadpanned, "Hilarious. Truly." She smirked in response, proud of her little joke, "Thank you. Seriously though, tell me everything." He let out a small sigh, first his mother and now his teammates; he was getting a little tired of everyone taking interest in his love life. "Nothing so interesting I promise." He took a moment before standing up, stretching his arms across his body as he woke himself up a bit more. "Look I'm not really interested in anything serious at the moment, and I'd certainly rather not muss things up with Carol if I can avoid it. I like what we have, it's casual and comfortable. I need that right now."

She didn't look entirely pleased with his response. She pursed her lips and her nostrils flared slightly. "That's all well and good but how will you know if you never take the risk?" there was a tightness to her voice that he'd never really heard before. He turned and addressed her fully now, "It's not about taking risks Nat, it's about stability. Things are hectic and crazy enough without complicating my already complicated personal life. Having something easy and stable and safe right now is enough to remind me how and why I do what I do. If at some point things slow down, maybe something happens. But I'm happy with where things stand at this point."

He walked out of the room as we finished his little speech, going into his room to gather a clean ensemble, he was still in the clothes he was wearing the night before. Gathering a clean shirt, a long sleeved white baseball shirt, faded blue jeans, a fresh pair of briefs, and some socks. He took the fresh clothing and placed it in the bathroom for after his shower. He walked back out into the living room to collect his phone when Natasha's voice cut through the apartment again.

"No." Her voice brought him out of his reverie for a moment, "No? what do you mean 'no', how is that not clear?" he thought he had made himself rather clear there, and even if he hadn't, why did this even matter so much. "No' meaning there's more to it than just that, I know you a Jackson and I know that an active work life is not what's keeping you from pursuing happiness" He was starting to get a little upset now, it was his life, his decisions, what was going on here, " Why do you even care who I do or do not date in the first place? More importantly, why is it so important that I date at all, I mean gods above Nat, it's not that important."

"People are just worried about you Percy, this life, the things we do and see, its hell, and everyone needs someone or something to get away from it all. It'll keep you sane. It's easy to get consumed by this life and the reminder of what and for whom you're doing it for helps." This was the most he had ever heard her open up before, and couldn't exactly hide his surprise at it. It still didn't change how he felt however, "I have everything I need for the moment Nat. I got you, Clint, my family, and friends. I don't need anything more than that right now; and I'm not worried about getting consumed by this, what I am worried about, however, is that the delicious breakfast you made is getting cold and I don't want to waste the one time you actually cooked, on some philosophical debate."

His tone left little room for debate, and thankfully Natasha dropped it for the moment, choosing instead to focus on finishing her own preparations for the day. Grabbing a cup of coffee, and doing his best not to simply gulp it down in one, he settled in to enjoy his breakfast. He was just opening his mouth to thank her when she cut him off, "It's the ex being back, isn't it? She's got you all turned around and being around your old crowd has got you feeling all topsy-turvey. So don't you stop bull-shitting me and yourself tell me what's really going on. Still got feelings for this other girl?" He slammed his head on the countertop and groaned loudly.

" _Di Immortales"_ he groaned out, his hands covering the top of his head as he attempted to melt into the countertop. "See! You've even slipped into some of your older habits, now fess up Jackson!" He sat up, exasperatedly throwing his hands in the air as he did so, "Alright, alright already. So maybe seeing Annabeth again has brought some things back to the surface that I thought I had sufficiently managed to bury. But it has nothing to do Carol or myself. Regardless of how I'm feeling, the days of Annabeth an myself are over and there's nothing that will change that." She looked at him rather sympathetically

"She ended things huh?" he looked over at her, confused, "What?" "I said that she was the one to cut things off not you." He paused and thought for a moment, "In a way…but I guess it was both of us" "What happened" he propped an arm up so it was resting against his cheek as Natasha hopped up and sat on the edge of the counter nearest the stove. "I told you what happened during the war right?" She nodded in affirmation; she and Clint were among the privileged few to know the extent of Percy's life pre-SHIELD, "Well, things were a bit more complicated after the fact than I would like to admit."

"PTSD?" She asked, "A little, but that wasn't the issue." His issues after coming out of the pit had been settled, he had to remember to stop by and see Hank again sometime, thank him. "I wanted out, after everything that had happened, all the needless death, destruction, harm, I just didn't want any part of that life anymore. Annabeth understood, but she couldn't bring herself to leave, she may have patched things up with her normal family, but that just wasn't who she was or what she wanted. I understood that, it hurt like hell at the time but I understood it."

"Did she understand what you wanted" she asked, not sympathetically but understanding, "Of course, she was always a rationale person, an endearing and obnoxious quality I'll tell ya, but she understood my position and was supportive enough, but we both realized that occasionally you need to do what's best for you. We were both in pretty bad places after the pit and well, it can really change your perspective on things. At the end of the day we both just decided that we needed to go our separate ways, forge our own path and if the fates decided it should be so, then maybe we'd make a go of it again. Of course she was the one to suggest it, she always was the smart one of the two of us, but I was all for it and honestly, I think it was for the best. I certainly think I'm a better man for it, and I'd like to think she doesn't regret the decision either ya know?"

Natasha was looking rather surprised after his revelation, "Never thought I'd get so much out of you Perce" she said honestly, to which he shrugged. Truth be told, he felt a bit better after their talk, it was the first time he'd ever really openly discussed what had happened with anyone and felt lighter for it. "Well. You know, new year, new me." He said with his cheesiest smile. "And moments gone, well done Perce, ten out of ten." He laughed as the corners of her lips turned up slightly.

"Alright, as fun as this has been I gotta go, have a meeting in an hour, good luck with your case" she hopped off and picked up the small black carrying bag that Percy hadn't noticed sitting on the countertop. "Thanks you too, and Nat-" "Yeah?" "Thanks" he said, very seriously "That's the first time I've really talked about it since it happened and…that helped so thank you." She gave him another real smile "Always glad to be of service." And she left.

Shortly after Natasha's departure, he showered and changed. Throwing on a shoulder holster and snapping his pistol into place before tossing on his heavy peacoat, he swept out into the crisp morning air. It was only a ten minute walk between his apartment and the small coffee shop that worked as the front for SHIELD operations in Manhattan. He said a brief hello to the agent behind the counter, which by the way, seemed like the most tremendous waste of SHIELD resources but hey, who was he to judge.

He turned into the crammed and dusty closet that was labeled the managers office, and punched the key pad on the landline that sat on the old warped wooden desk in the middle of the room. A slot opened up at the base with an identification scanner. After confirming his I.D. the far wall retracted opening the way towards the innards of the complex.

To be honest, the entire ordeal was so cliché fifties spy thriller that he couldn't exactly repress the groan every time he was forced to go through with it. But it was all in the name of maintaining a semi-covert operation which he could respect. Walking into the elevator at the end of the newly revealed hallway, with the wall closing behind him once more, he hit the button for the sub-level three, where he and Coulson operated, and waited patiently for the elevator to descend.

He was barely two steps out of the elevator before he was approached by a fellow agent, "Agent Jackson, Agent Coulson told me to send you to him the second you got in." he had to give SHIELD credit, they were nothing if not efficient. "Did he say what it was about?" he asked, walking towards his office with the lower-tier agent following behind him. "No sir, only that you needed to see him as soon as you came in" said the young agent, as they entered Percy's office and he shed his coat. "Alright, thank you" he said curtly, nodding the young man out the door as he did so.

He grabbed a file that was sitting on his desk before striding in quickly towards Coulson's office. He didn't even bother knocking as he marched in and asked "I assume you got something for me?" Coulson, to his credit, wasn't even fazed by Percy's entrance, "Yes, we pulled O'Malley and Donohugh's bank records, Donohugh is clear but O'Malley has been receiving consistent checks for several thousand dollars for the last several months. We also pulled his credit statements and he's been spending more than a man with his salary should be able to."

Percy paused and though over what Coulson just told him, "Think we should pull him?" he asked, honestly. "Your call. You're the lead on this one remember?" Percy scoffed a little at that, "I'm not asking you to make my decision for me, I'm asking for your opinion because I trust it and value your judgment" which was the truth, being the senior agent, as well as the man to first train Percy, there weren't many others on the planet that Percy trusted. Coulson regarded him for a moment, then nodded in approval, "Not yet, it's still too soon and we don't have any real leverage over him. Give me today and I'll have something a bit more concrete, we don't want him wriggling away from us and we also want to make sure that he gets us everything we need."

Percy smiled slightly, pleased with the advice, "Alright, we'll wait then, get me whatever you think will convince him to talk. Was there anything else?" "Yes actually" he started, "We got the data back on the man with the Tiara; Derik Vandervort: thirty years old, born in Holland, Michigan, unmarried, mother died when he was seventeen, identity of the father is unknown." Percy frowned, he was worried about that, "I have a very strong suspicion that his father's identity isn't as unknown as we might like to think."

Coulson looked up; taken aback, "You think he's one of yours" it was more of a statement than it was a question. "I would be much more surprised if he wasn't if I'm completely honest." He said, raking a hand through his ragged hair. He bit back a groan as he realized that he would need to confront some individuals he would have rather left alone. To be fair though, he thought, he did promise to keep them appraised. "I'll make some calls, see if I can't get a handle on this, but if I'm right, then I made the right call in not giving that tiara back." He finally said.

Coulson looked concerned at that, "I was going to ask you about that as well" he said casually. Percy frowned and considered it, leaning up against the sidewall of the office. "I figured you would, if I'm right about the identity of the father of Vandervort, then this wouldn't have been the first time he had tried something like this. It might be the spark to another conflict, one that I am very much looking to avoid if I can help it." Coulson looked a little incredulous at that, "You think they'd really go to war over a tiara?" Percy scoffed,

"People go to war over far less than a simple tiara, and gods are even more fickle add to the mix that, that isn't even just a simple tiara. It's the very symbol of her power and authority, without it, she is considerably less powerful and extremely vulnerable. It's not a surprise that she's been trying to keep quiet about it." "Do you think Vandervort knew what he had? And what does any of this have to do with the missing drugs?" Coulson asked.

"I have a few prevailing theories: the first, is that Vandervort's father, if I'm right which I'm confident I am, is looking to reconsolidate his own power by sparking a new war. However, that doesn't explain who killed Vandervort and his men or why. Hunters sure as hell don't use bullets and they certainly would have found the tiara had it been them so that's likely not an option. The other possibility is that Vandervort and his boys were looking for a quick score, we are all well aware of the going market rates for mystical objects of vague importance. But that also seems iffy. My best guess? We have a pissed off and resourceful demigod running around. It certainly wouldn't be the first time and I doubt it would be the last. It would explain why there are so many connections to other demigods. But here's what I don't understand, why do they keep killing demigods. In my experience, rampaging demigods look to minimize the damage caused to the others if at all possible, they look to recruit them instead of killing them, so why do they keep killing them?"

He began pacing as he spoke, marching around the small office unconsciously. Coulson looked torn between amused and confused, and equally just as frustrated. "Ok so we have a pile of dead demigods, a mole, several dead agents, and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of essentially demigod super steroids running around somewhere, and no real leads. Is that everything?" Coulson surmised, agitated at their lack of progress.

Percy frowned a little, "A little on the nose but yes." Coulson sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in agitation, "Do we have literally any idea where to go from here?" "Yes, unfortunately. But, things are not as bad as we think, I think. I need to clarify some things on my end of things, I have some people who kind of specialize in mysteries and I promised I'd keep some of my people appraised of what's going on. If you can get the rest of that dirt, we can begin pressing on Donohugh, if we can get a name, business, literally anything, we'll have something to move off of."

Coulson nodded a little "Agreed, I'll have something before the end of the day, don't expect to go home again anytime soon." Percy smirked, "Wasn't planning on it."

The walk towards Annabeth's small architecture firm was short but startlingly cold, it was looking like it was going to be a mass freeze in the big apple. It took around fifteen minutes before he reached the small business complex that housed Annabeth's blossoming firm. He walked up the seven flights of stairs, silently cursing the bastard who chose not to install an elevator, before reaching his destination and turning toward the small wooden door with "Parthenon Architecture" on the door.

He opened the door and strode into the small office, and truly he meant small. As it consisted of two small cramped rooms, the first one, a white walled room, with just a small white desk and a few small white hard backed chairs laying against the near wall. Percy put on his most charming smile and approached the young women seated behind the desk.

"Hi there, can you please tell Miss Chase that there is a Percy Jackson here to see her" he said in what he was told was his most pleasing tone. She started a bit, and looked taken aback as he addressed her. She shook it off admirably enough however. "I'm sorry sir, do you have an appointment?" "Nope", he said popping the "P" as he did so "So why don't you just go on and tell Annabeth that I'm here."

She was looking uncomfortable now, which he understood, he was a strange man who just burst into her office demanding to speak with her boss, he would be pretty uncomfortable too in her place, "I can't do that if you don't have an appointment" he wasn't phased though, "Oh well that's no problem, I'll just go see here myself." He stated as he began to make his way past her desk towards the door behind the desk.

"Wait-what no, you can't! Hey, wait!" she said, standing up and looking to try and block Percy as he strode past, but he wasn't deterred by her. He pushed his way towards the door and thrust it open to see Annabeth pouring over the blueprints to something he couldn't quite make out. She looked up, annoyed at the sudden intrusion, her face reaching an understanding though as she just who it was that had barged into her office.

"Really, seaweed brain? Can you please not harass my poor secretary; Rebecca, it's fine, cancel my next appointment please." He smirked as the Rebecca the secretary retreated back into the room behind them. If the reception room, if it can even be called that, was cramped then Annabeth's office was a closet. With literally enough room for a small desk and chair, the only other notable feature of the room was the large window looking out over the street behind them.

"White walls, white furniture, white clothes, man wise girl this place really speaks to you. Boring." He smirked, Annabeth looked like she was trying to smother a grin. "Gee thanks Percy. What are you doing here, some of us have work to do." "Ouch, that hurts." Then he turned serious, his brow furrowing as he said in a hushed tone. "How secure are we here." She looked a little startled by his sudden change of disposition but rolled with it, "Very."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, "I'm here about my case. His name is Derik Vandervort, he's from Holland Michigan, would have been around for a while when you first got to camp. Recognize him." He pulled a file that he brought with him out of his coat and took a picture from the inside, showing it to Annabeth. She studied it for a moment, a look of concentration on her face before nodding.

"Yeah, he was your typical Ares kid, a little more subdued than most but just as brutal and proficient in the field. Why, what happened?" "Found him and about 10 others dead in a warehouse just outside the city. He was involved in a robbery of a SHIELD caravan with several hundred thousands worth of our drug. You're sure he's a son of Ares?" She looked a little startled but composed herself, "That's awful, but yes, I'm sure. Why does that matter so much?" he began pleading with her, "You can't say anything. Annabeth I'm serious about this. Thalia, Piper, Grover, nobody. I need your word on this Annabeth, I need an oath."

The enormity of what was just asked seemed to hit her at once, and she looked briefly alarmed and more than a little worried. "Gods Percy, is it really that bad?" he frowned, dispassionate "We're talking war, Annabeth, it's warranted." She rubbed her eyes, looking suddenly tired and years older than she was, "Gods above, alright fine I swear upon the river Styx that I will not divulge what was discussed here today with Percy Jackson to any person, god or creature."

Percy felt the relief begin to flow through him, not that he didn't explicitly trust Annabeth, but with the sensitivity of what they were dealing with, it was better to err on the side of caution. "Thank you, really." He said, sincerely, "Now will you tell me what the Hades is going on here?" He didn't say anything, instead opting to pull out the tiara. Her mouth opened, then closed, them opened it again, "Is that, what I think it is?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes."

"Percy…where did you get that." "Vandervort was holding it, he had stolen it, how, I'm not sure, but he was bringing it to someone." That caused her to pause slightly, "You think it was his father?" he shrugged, "It certainly crossed my mind." Annabeth frowned, thinking hard, "Well it certainly wouldn't be the first time, but he wasn't even in control of his actions last time he pulled something like this. Do you really think he'd go so far as to insight war? It just doesn't make any sense? What does he serve to gain from that? And what does any of that have to do with you and your people? None of this is making sense."

"I have a thought." "Call the press." He ignored her, "What if we're looking at a similar situation, what if someone is manipulating things, trying to tear them apart from the inside? It's what Cronus was trying to do." She looked contemplative, "That would make sense but where do you come into all of this, if what you told us the other night is true then only demigods benefit from the drugs then…"

"Demigods are the ones behind all of this, yes." She looked conflicted, "I want to say that I don't believe you but…experience says otherwise. But Percy I have another question, why come to me? You could have just called about Vandervort but you didn't, why?" Percy paused; it wasn't something he was incredibly comfortable answering. How did he tell her that he needed to confirm that there was nothing left so he could begin moving on.

He sighed and proceeded though, despite his own reservations "I value your insight, and I…I don't know, I guess I just needed to see you again, reaffirm some things you know? I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and just wanted to make sure I had my head straight on everything. I just.-" he was cut off as time slowed briefly. Annabeth's shoulder exploded into a shower of gore as something tore through his chest. He stumbled back, his focus was only on Annabeth's slumping body, he jerked again and felt like sharp hot needles of pain shoot through him as two more rounds buried themselves into his chest.

He fell, his breathing ragged and his body shuddering in agonizing pain with every harsh shuttering breathe. As he looked towards Annabeth he caught sight of something on the opposite rooftop, his vision was fading fast but he was able to make out what looked like a man with long dark hair, and a face mask moving slowly away from the ledge of the building opposite, but that wasn't the most striking thing Percy noticed. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or perhaps he was experiencing hallucination brought on by the pain and blood loss, but it looked almost like the man's left arm was shinning silver in the winter sun, almost metallic like. He had more pressing concerns however and gathered just enough strength, as darkness creeped into the corners of his eyes to begin slowly crawling over to where Annabeth had fallen. He had almost reached her when the darkness fully consumed his vision, and with a shaky breathe he shouted,

"Annabeth!"

AN: Hey all sorry for the late update but life finds a way to get in the way. Thought I'd address some of the questions I'd been getting. The Avengers are coming, slowly, as should be clear by now the events of what I'm considering this arc of the story are taking place just before and during Iron Man 2, meaning that big things will be coming and they'll be coming soon so I beg patience of you, I promise that it'll be worth it! I have big plans for this story, I also wanted to apologize for the lack of action in the last few chapters but the next one will be big I promise; and I want to thank everyone for all of the support. I never expected the reception that this got so thanks everyone for your continued love and support!

-Lil DB


	8. Darius is a Dick

For most, dreams are either fun or horrific. You can live out your innermost fantasies or face your darkest nightmares. That's for normal people. For demigods, it was another story all together. Demigods learned quickly to fear their dreams, because they were never simple dreams, but visions, visions of what was to come or what was happening it didn't matter. It was rarely good.

Percy was no stranger to these dreams, he'd been having them since he was a kid, but that didn't make them any less jarring, or keep the anxiety from creeping up his arms and embedding itself in the pit of his stomach. He tried to make sense of the sudden experience of not being completely in control of his own body; being a third party to an unseeing audience was never a comfortable transition.

He was in a luxurious office, somewhere high over the city, he didn't know how he knew it was New York, but he didn't question it. A woman, tall with flowing beautiful red hair, reminding Percy of a fire. She exuded power and authority, the type of woman who didn't need to command the attention of those around her, because she captivated any in her presence.

She was sitting behind a beautiful wooden desk, made of rich mahogany, across from where she was sitting stood a man, powerfully built, his jaw clenched in concentration as he observed something on the small data pad in his hands. Percy made a note to memorize every detail he could about the two of them, it didn't matter if they weren't saying anything of note, he knew enough to know that if he was seeing them, then whoever they were, they were important.

He made a special note of the small scar over the dark haired man's lip, it would make things easier when or if, he woke up. He broke from his musings when the women spoke, her voice soft and velvety; rich like a fine syrup.

"How long until we are ready to move" she asked quietly, the man shifted his weight from foot to foot as he took a moment to respond.

"Assuming we start now, we could be wheels up as early as tomorrow morning." His voice was gravely, and low, a sharp contrast from his superior. "We have at least two divisions ready to move on the camp. Gods willing, we'll catch them completely unawares and unprepared." He looked not pleased at the end of his report, but there was a tilt to his voice that suggested eagerness and an excitement that was only barely being contained.

"Control yourself Rostham" said the women, though she allowed a smile to grace her lips. It made her even more stunningly beautiful. "Eagerness and excitement, while useful, can be detrimental. Maintain a clear and controlled mind, we cannot afford to make careless mistakes, we have come too far."

Rostam. He had a name, and little time to use it. He needed to wake up, as useful as this could prove to be, he didn't have time, he needed to wake up, prepare. The camp! Whoever these people were, they were planning an attack on the camp. But why? Who were these people? Rostam, it wasn't Greek that much he knew. It was not Roman either. They both had the darkened tan skins that mark most demigods but Percy recognized neither the man nor the women.

Before he could think more conclusively on what he had learned, the scene shifted, and suddenly he was encompassed by a blackness so thick and complete, Percy thought he might have been drowning in it. From out of the darkness though, Percy could make out three shapes, and within moments, the wispy forms of three old women, with a singular large hole where the eyes on a normal person would be. In the hand of the form in the middle, Percy could make out a human eyeball.

These were the three fates, and they had a message for Percy. The wraith on the left spoke first, its voice raspy and ethereal.

"We have shown you as much as we can, Perseus, son of Poseidon." The one on the right took up where her sister left off.

"You must hurry, and end this threat soon, for there is something even greater coming. Rivals, once thought gone and banished, are returning, and a war, greater and more devastating than any before, is on the horizon."

He wanted to scream, shout, say something, anything, but he couldn't. He was merely an observer meant to watch, to listen to the message being given. The sister in the middle, still holding tightly onto the eye in her hand spoke next.

"We have interfered greatly showing you even these messages, Perseus, son of Poseidon, but you must end this nuisance and focus on preparing for what is to come."

Nuisance? He wanted to lash out, to angrily scream at these tiresome meddling old women that people were dead, that this 'nuisance' had cost many people their lives; people he knew, people he had been friends with, and had trained with. But he remained silent, forced to be naught but an audience. An obedient lapdog, as he had always been.

The fate on the left was speaking again, "You will need to forge alliances, the battles to come will be unwinnable on your own. You will be unable to rely on the gods for these battles Perseus, bonds you forge in the coming days will be vital in your fights ahead. Do well to remember these words young Perseus. Once again the fate of the world will rest on your shoulders."

Of course, while it wasn't a prophecy it was annoyingly vague and unhelpful enough to fall into the category. He had so many questions, least of all, was why these things could never be straightforward, why was it always damn riddles and nonsense.

The three fates then reached out as one, saying in unison as they did so "It's time young hero, to get to work. Wake up."

Percy noted three things immediately after opening his eyes. The first, was that his chest really, really hurt. The second, was that he was not in a hospital, the general lack of whiteness, substituted instead for a strange light blue, filled his vision, and the air lacked the distinct stale stench that is unique only to hospitals. Thirdly, and perhaps most confusingly of all, Percy noted that he was wet.

Where the hell was he? He tried to think back on what happened, he screwed his eyes shut again and tried to concentrate, and all at once memories came flooding back, the office, Annabeth, being shot.

His eyes finished adjusting to his environment and he knew exactly where he was, he was in the same place he been taken to recover after Budapest. Reaching down to the handle he knew was near his right hand, he gave it a sharp upwards tug, and the mouth of the tank burst open, and the water flooded out, leaving Percy standing, breathing heavily in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, in the tank.

It was one of the few perks to being the son of the Sea King, water healed his wounds, which is why SHIELD accounting loved Percy. Whereas other agents required lengthy hospital visits to recover from lengthy injury, Percy required only a tank with some water in it.

Hell, his healing was advanced enough that even the IV drip in his arm after his fight with Stane last year had been enough to get him up and going again. For them to have thrown him in the tank meant that he was in very, very bad shape when they brought him in.

He placed his right hand on the side of the glass tank to steady himself, his legs were weak and felt like jelly, which meant he had been in there for longer than a few hours, again, not a good sign. Willing himself to be dry, and feeling the water disappear from around him, he straightened up as someone approached him.

As he stood he found himself face to face with, not Coulson or a doctor as he had been expecting, but rather the frowning, but clearly relieved form Clint Barton.

"Clint?" Percy said, his voice coming out raspy and weak. Good god, how long had he been out of it" "What the hell are you doing here? Where are we? Where's Annabeth? What the hell is-" Clint cut off his ramblings with an outstretched palm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there fish boy. Let's take things one step at a time now, you've been out of commission for a while now." Percy nodded and took a steadying breathe, trying to quell the storm of questions and confusion that was raging inside of him. After a moment he nodded a Clint, giving him the go-ahead to continue.

"You remember what happened then?" Percy nodded, "Good, that's good" he seemed to say that more to himself than to Percy "You were in real bad shape when they brought you in, luckily the girl working as Miss Chases secretary was one of you, gave the two of you some of that, whatever the hell-"

"Nectar and Ambrosia" Percy said, interrupting him,

"Whatever" Clint responded, giving Percy a pointed look, "it kept you semi-stable but you were still in a bad way. You were in the tank for a week."

His legs felt weak again, but he managed to keep himself from outright falling over. He'd lost a week, no wonder the Fates were pushing him to wake up.

"Hey, WaterWorld, you with me? C'mon, say something kid." Clint said, snapping his fingers in front of Percy's face. Percy shook himself out of his reverie and looked at Clint again, nodding as he did so and motioning him to continue.

Clint nodded, but still looked at Percy relatively uncertain, scrutinizing him. He hated that, Natasha did it too, the babied him far too much for his liking, he could take a pounding or two but they never really felt the same. His annoyance must have shown on his face because Clint quickly stopped what he was doing and proceeded to continue his briefing.

"The girl, Annabeth, she's fine, a little banged up but she'll be out of the hospital soon enough, the bullet went clean through her shoulder." Percy snorted at that, "Something funny?" Clint asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, of course the bullet went clean through, it hit me didn't it?" Percy's felt his eyes gain a steely edge to them, and he could hear the venom in his words as he spoke, "We know who did this yet?" Clint hesitated, which mean that they did, and clearly did not want Percy to know. "Clint…" Percy growled out.

Clint sighed in resignation, he knew a lost battle when he saw one, and he knew there was no getting Percy to drop this. It was way too personal now. Running a hand through his hair as he spoke, "Most people in the intelligence community don't think he actually exists, but the ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He's been credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years."

Percy raised a brow at that but said nothing, though the look on his face was again too readable for Clint, "I know what you're thinking, and it's a bad idea."

"Explain to me, how putting a bullet in the man who nearly killed me and my friend is a bad idea." Percy said hotly, brushing past Clint and heading down the metal ramp. He stumbled a bit as he did so, and recovered only when an arm grasped onto his and steadied him.

"Well, for starters, you can barely walk." God, he could hear the smirk on Clint's face without even seeing it. "and secondly, in case you forgot, there is a veritable army of super powered demigods waiting to blow New York and your little camp sky-high. The Winter Soldier can wait, this takes priority and you know it."

Percy clenched his teeth together tightly, trying to calm the storm of anger that was raging inside. Clint was right, Percy knew that, but it was hard to think straight at the moment, there were simply too many emotions rampaging at the moment. He closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing, taking comfort in the water in the air around them, allowing it to soothe and calm him. After a moment, he opened his eyes and nodded at Clint.

"You're right"

"I'm always right"

Percy ignored him, "We need to get to HQ, exchange notes with Phil, I had a…revelation as I was in the tank. I think I know a place to start looking."

"Alright!" said Clint, clapping his hands together as a smile reached onto his face. He looked down and couldn't quite keep the chuckle out of his voice, "But first, lets find you some pants."

BREAK

Percy and Clint strode purposefully down the pristine halls of New York's SHIELD headquarters, Percy now dressed in lightweight khaki tactical pants, and a black skin tight long sleeve thermal, was running through scenarios in his head.

They had been told that Coulson was trying to, once again, break through the stubborn wall that was Marcus O'Malley. Since Percy went under, Coulson had begun tearing into the man, looking for any exploitable weakness, but had so far been completely unsuccessful.

As far as Coulson had been able to find, the man had no family to threaten, though with fellow agents that was almost always laughed off. Coulson, tough bastard he may be, was predictable in his desire to keep civilians out of it. Especially families. He also had no significant relationships that Coulson would have been able to uncover. But Percy was privy to information that Coulson was not. Percy had a particular understanding of how children of Athena worked, better than most, and he knew exactly how to exploit their methods of thinking.

He would shake O'Malley's whole world.

The automatic doors to the interrogation cells opened with a silent hiss, and Coulson's raging filled their ears. Percy and Clint shared a brief look, and Percy shifted the file in his hands, they had made a brief stop at the intelligence offices a floor above just prior to their arrival.

As they made their way further into the cells, and they arrived at the two way mirror which marked the end of their short trek. It was something straight out of the procedural cop shows on television, and Percy was struck once again, how stereotypical SHIELD could be when they wanted to be.

Without a word, Percy strode through the doors to his right, through the small waiting room on the other side and into the small chamber. Whatever Coulson had been about to say, died on his lips upon Percy's arrival.

When you work with someone for long enough, words can become unnecessary, Percy and Coulson had this type of relationship, a simple look, and nod from Percy, and Coulson stood down, readjusting his tie as he took a seat at the unoccupied chair on their side of the table.

Percy turned to face O'Malley, a red faced, dark haired, and beady eyed man. He was only a few years younger than Percy, and had been recruited straight out of high school into SHIELD's intelligence divisions. Children of Athena were always good for intelligence positions.

"Heard you got roughed up Jackson" he said snidely, though his eyes betrayed, relief dancing slightly in his dark gray eyes. That was interesting; it meant that he genuinely didn't know about that hit put out on him. That meant he likely wasn't as in the loop as Percy would have hoped, but he would stick to his plan.

"You know me Marcus, tried death once, didn't stick." Percy said, as nonchalantly as he could. He then made a show of looking shockingly depressed, sighing deeply, and rubbing a hand over his eyes as though extremely tired. He held his hand over his face for a second, attempting to look as though what he was about to say was extremely difficult.

Remember, being a good agent was no different than being a good actor; it was essentially just lying about who you are, what you're doing, or what had happened. Percy had learned to become a very good liar, and it made him a very good agent.

"I wish I could say the same for Annabeth." He said quietly, doing everything to make his voice as shaky and brittle as possible. As he did so, he lowered his hand from his face and opened the file in his other hand, before throwing it onto the table, as though the file itself had done him a deeply personal wrong.

Inside the file, was a fabricated picture of Annabeth Chase, laying face up on a metal mortuary table; very, very dead. It was a spur of the moment plan, one he came up with as they were arriving at the building.

O'Malley stared blankly at the file in front of him, shock evident on his face. "But….she…what happened?!" he demanded, standing up, or rather attempting to, the handcuffs attached to his wrists kept him from achieving a full rise, but he rose as much as he could, as though he were attempting to get away from the offending picture.

"That little incident, you heard about, the one that knocked me out of it for a few days, she was there too. I was there to talk to her about what was going on, get her opinion, when your people shot me, through her." He made a show of tightening his fists, and summoned the anger and frustration he felt, not at O'Malley, but at the case itself, and allowed for him to create an illusion of rage. "Your people, got her killed you bastard!" Percy roared, slamming his hands down on the table and willing a small eruption of water to sprout at the place his palms struck for added effect.

Whether from Percy's sudden rage, or the impact of his words, O'Malley recoiled, collapsing into his chair, looking defeated. Ever since the war, the children of the gods had grown exceptionally close; the death of one of their own dealt the same kind of pain as if they had lost their own mother of father or mortal blood family. For some, it hit even harder. Children of Athena especially, typically came from exceptionally broken homes, it was just the kind of men that Athena typically had a child with. It was clear that the impact of his actions were becoming increasingly clear to O'Malley. In his mind, he might as well have pulled the trigger himself on his own sister.

This was Percy's plan, children of Athena thought logically, painfully so, and when you introduce something so chaotic that they can't begin to truly comprehend it, they break, they stop thinking and are reduced to something that's almost pathetic.

"I didn't…he said they wouldn't hurt them…" he said quietly, more to himself than to Percy, "He said that he wouldn't hurt them, he swore, he gave his word…I just don't understand." he was rambling.

"Who" Percy asked, pressing him now, "Who told you, who were you selling our secrets to!" but O'Malley still wasn't looking at him, he was rambling now, under his breath. Percy marched around the table and grabbed O'Malley around the nape of his plain white t-shirt. "Who were you working for!" he roared again, and this time, O'Malley did look at him.

His eyes were wide and he was stammering, "I don't know!" he said, or rather whimpered.

"Μαλακίες" Percy spat, "You wouldn't get into bed with someone so sketchy without making sure you knew who they were, now is not a time to mess with me Marcus, not with Annabeth laying dead! Your sister, dead! Because of you!"

He looked ready to cry, and Percy felt a course of pity run through him, he was never fond of interrogating, it always left him feeling exceptionally dirty. But he pushed through the pity and ignored the epithetical part of his brain, and focused on the task at hand.

It was time for a new approach, part of the trick to interrogations is to never be predictable, keep them guessing and intentionally off balance and you'll catch them with their guard down. Percy spoke low, almost soothing now, "Tell me where Rostam is hiding the drugs"

The shift had the desired effect, with eyes wide and shock written plainly on his face, O'Malley stammered out "How did you…"

But Percy cut him off, he needed this to be done, they were running out of time as it was. "Marcus, listen to me, just tell me where Rostam is hiding the drug and where they are gathering, you're resourceful you and I both know it. I know you would have figured out where they were hiding just in case, you're smart like that." He added a note of begging to his voice, "Help me here man, help me get back at the bastards who took Annabeth away, help me get revenge for your sister."

Had he been thinking rationally, he likely would have seen through Percy's act, but Percy had been thoroughly successful in his endeavor to keep O'Malley off balance. "They have a series of buildings on west 36th street, off of 7th avenue. They're old textile buildings they've been using as a front for their activities." Percy had never before heard such a defeated man before, and, as it was he also had a hard time keeping the victorious smile off of his face.

Tapping the man's soldier in what would appear to be a consoling gesture, he said "Thank you Marcus, there will be agents here soon to take you to your cell, and don't worry I'll be sure to tell Annabeth how helpful you were."

He looked utterly befuddled at that, before a look of horror slowly worked its way onto his face, Percy merely winked at him and walked out of the room, Coulson hot on his heels.

"That's got to be a record" remarked Coulson once they had exited the room and were on their way out, Clint trailing behind the pair, heading towards the offices. "Must have been less than ten minutes and you got out of him what we couldn't in a week. We might have you in the wrong department Jackson."

In spite of himself, Percy felt a flush of embarrassment run through him, and ran a nervous hand through his hair, "I know how my family thinks, and we're desperate here." He said quickly, rounding the corner and pushing his way into Coulson's office. "We're running out of time here, and I was lucky enough to have a name he didn't expect me to know"

Coulson, who had gone around to his side of the desk, began leafing through some papers as he spoke, "I was going to ask where you came up with that name."

"The Fates" Percy said simply, "Came to me while I was under, showed me who were dealing with, one of the men was named Rostam, didn't manage to get the name of the women, but whoever she was, was in charge and is operating here in the city." He quickly gave Coulson a description of both of the people in question. Coulson nodded his acceptance, filing the information away for later use, but they had more pressing matters.

"Your vision, did it tell you what kind of time frame we're dealing with here?" this question came from Clint, not Coulson, perhaps to simply remind the pair that he was still in the room with them as well.

Percy nodded, checking his watch, "They're going to mobilizing and on their way to Camp Jupiter by sunrise, we need to move, and now."

"Strike team" Coulson asked, but he seemed to have known what Percy's answer was going to be before he said it.

Percy shook his, "No, that's midtown, to much risk of civilian interference, and besides, a bunch demigods supped up on this little super serum, regular SHIELD teams wont be able to efficiently deal with it, better if Clint and I go alone on this, if that's ok with you of course." He said, addressing Clint.

Percy got a smirk in response, "Yeah" Clint said, "I think I should probably come along, keep you from falling into any more traps."

Percy kept himself from scoffing; Coulson however, didn't look convinced. "I'm not thrilled about the idea of you two taking on a veritable army of enhanced demigods with no backup" Coulson said slowly.

"We don't exactly have the luxury of choice here Phil." Said Clint

Coulson's sour look remained, but he understood the importance of an expediency, "alright, gear up and get going, we won't have time to officially sanction this so try and keep property damage" he looked explicitly at Percy who let out a small yelp of indignation "to a minimum. I want absolutely no interactions with civilians; luckily it's late enough that this shouldn't be an issue. Gear up and get moving"

Percy and Clint nodded, Clint left but Percy lingered briefly, "Do me a favor, and try and get something on this Rostam guy, I want at least something before jumping into this. We're going in way too blind as it is at the moment for me to be totally comfortable."

Coulson nodded an affirmation, "I'll have something before you two leave" Percy thanked before following Clint out the door, running towards the armory.

Coming into the armory he jogged over to a footlocker in the corner, Clint throwing on his own uniform in the background, checking his arrow count as he did so. Opening the locker Percy threw on a pair of metal grieves over his black boots. Next came the chest plate, fitted for protection against non-ballistic weapons, what it sacrificed in defense, it gained in mobility, allowing Percy the mobility to maneuver better than most.

He threw on a jacket over the chest plate, Kevlar sewed into the seams of the dark black jacket to offer some protection that his chest plate failed to. Next he grabbed what was essentially a camelback, and strapped it to his back, taking the two large tubes running from the face of the pack and snapping them into holsters running the lengths of the arms of his jacket, stopping at his hands, where they inserted into the black Kevlar gloves Percy placed onto his hands.

The water flowed directly into his hands, allowing for greater control immediately over water, without having to convert it out of the air. It only saved a few seconds, but in the end, a few seconds could be the difference between life and death. Furthermore, having immediate access to a flowing water supply, allowed for a bit more creativity in what he could do, what he could construct, and gave him more immediate firepower.

He grabbed a knife, and slipped it into a sheathe in his belt, along with a backup in his boot. Against demigods, firearms could prove to be a hindrance. Demigods were quick, agile, able to get within your guard before you knew it, and by the time you pulled the trigger there was either a knife in your belly, or slash along your throat. Either way, you'd be dead before pulling the trigger. But Percy was also a demigod, and one of the most powerful at that, he was quick and had experience, ultimately the determining factor in most fights. Which is why he also grabbed his Glock 9mm, and slipped that into his holster alongside his knife. Besides, it never hurt to be prepared.

Percy and Clint left the armory wordlessly, the quiet calm that came right before an exceptionally dangerous mission. Goosebumps erupted alongside his arms and the hair on the back of his neck stood up on end. His jaw clenched as he climbed into the passenger seat of the blacked out truck.

It was time to win a war.

BREAK

They agreed to split up, and work their way through the building in two prongs. Clint, ever the avian, would climb to the top of the large building that was once a textile factory, and had since, been converted into what appeared to be a high-end department store. Once at the top, Clint would blow his way down, as Percy broke and battered his way up.

If they were in sync, which they always were, they would catch Rostam and his men unawares, and completely confused. They wouldn't know how many they were dealing with, and certainly which way to go. This also ensured that they would be unable to run. As clever as it was that their operation was hiding right under SHIELD's nose, only a few blocks to be precise, it meant that they were squared in, with little room for maneuvering and running away.

It was also harder to coordinate divisions of men in the cramped hallways of New York high rises, which would lead to confusion and panic. At least, that was what they were banking on.

Percy watched as Clint exited the car, climbing up a fire escape in the alley they had parked in, facing towards the building, Percy checked his watch, he would wait five minutes before bringing Rostam and his merry group of Persians, the worst candy-gram in history.

Percy still couldn't wrap his head around it, Persians. The word felt foreign and left a distinctly foul taste in his mouth that he couldn't place. Coulson had called as they were leaving the facility to tell them what they needed to know about Rostam, or at least everything Coulson could dig up, which wasn't much.

Rostam was Canadian, son of an Egyptian ex-pat who died of unknown causes sometime after Rostam turned thirteen. With no father in the picture, Rostam joined up with a Canadian Persian extremist group known as the Sons of Darius. They were linked to small time arms smuggling into the United States but he went off the radar sometime in his mid-twenties.

All in all it sounded very similar to Greek and Roman demigod stories in the States, and that rubbed Percy very much the wrong way. And while it wasn't a lot of information, it was still certainly better than trying to go into this kind of a confrontation with nothing. Words and information could be more deadly than any gun or edged weapon could hope to be.

Checking his watch one more time he stepped out of the car, and inhaled deeply and calmly. Striding towards the front door, he had a few minutes left to prepare. Standing in front of the entrance he closed his eyes and focused, extending his will outward, using the water on his back, flowing into his gloves, as a focus.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and nodded to himself, he had a rough idea of the layout of the people inside. Percy had never been much of a planner, in his experience, plans went to hell too quickly in real combat to ever be too effective, he was better with simply improvising on the fly, having a rough idea of what needed to be done, and adapting as new information was presented.

He checked his watch and got ready, a counted down from ten in his head, before kicking the door as hard as he could, directly where he knew a table holding four men was sitting. The door exploded off of hits hinges and launched exactly where he had wanted it to. It collided with a mighty crash against the back of the man facing away from Percy. The force of the kick pushed the man and the table crashing down, trapping two others underneath.

Percy focused his will into his hand, creating a small knife of water, and threw it at the remaining man. It slammed into his chest; cutting straight through him and exploding out of the poor mans back.

Speed was going to be his greatest ally, so he kept moving. He ran to his right, at a pair of escalators leading to the second floor; another man who had been previously leaning against the railing on his phone, looked up at the sudden commotion only to be met with the business end of Percy's knife. A quick stab into the side of the poor mans neck and he knew no more.

Yanking it out, Percy hurried up the stairs, forcing his will outwards into the palms of his hands and forming two long tendrils of water. The tendrils had formed completely as he reached the top of the escalator, and Percy extended both of his hands outward before bringing them across his body in one swift motion.

The tendrils lashed out, a powerful and deadly whip of power at the group of men standing there. They had been half at a rise from their positions sprawled across the showroom floor. The tendrils caught four of them and launched them, like ragdolls, well across the length of the floor, slamming into the walls on the opposite side of the room, sliding down, broken.

Turning back, bringing the tendrils with him as he did so, he slammed into the rest of the men rising from their chairs, launching them sprawling to the opposite wall. One of the men, the one hit first by the tendrils, hit the wall so hard the sailed straight through, crumpling in a heap half in the wall and half out.

Dissipating his makeshift weapons he started running toward the door that the men had been attempting to guard. Blowing through it just as the alarm began to ring, loud and painful.

It couldn't be helped, between the commotion downstairs and whatever havoc Clint had managed to cause by this point, it was unsurprising that the alarm was sounding. Now it was merely a question of where they would begin diverting their forces.

Percy got his answer as he opened the door at the end of the showroom floor. Part of the reason you train so hard is not so that you can think your way through a fight, but rather the opposite, you work so hard so that instinct takes over and your body naturally reacts without the arduous process of having to consciously make the effort. The reactions were taught and honed by Percy at a young age and they had saved him more times than he cared to count. Now being one of them.

Without consciously doing it, he willed a shield of water, covering the front of him from floor to just above the crown of his head, to appear as bullets tore at the front of the door. Concentrating on maintaining the integrity of the shield in one hand, with the other he drew his pistol and quickly took in his new surroundings.

It was a long hallway, with several doors on either side, leading to what Percy guessed were likely a mix of barracks and supply closets. It was a narrow and cramped space but that made it rather perfect for him. He wasn't hampered by a bulky gun and was more maneuverable as a rule. The Persians would not be able to fire willy nilly without risk of shooting one of their own if he did this the right way.

With a grunt of effort he braced himself, extending his will further into the shield and pushed forward with all of his might, throwing the literal wall of water down the hall as hard as he could.

He didn't stay to watch the result, instead he tore into the first room on his left like a bullet, his makeshift plan was to just move from room to room clearing out as many of the bastards as he could. As he did so he hoped to draw Rostam out into the open, or pincer him in the middle with Clint.

As he entered the doorway, he felt his body duck under the vicious left-hook, he responded with a hard knee to the offenders stomach, making the poor man, whose ribs were surely cracked, double over in pain. As he did so, Percy grabbed the back of him and threw him hard, into the man with the loaded assault rifle, who was about to bring his weapon to bear on person from across the room.

The two fell to earth in a mess of limbs and Percy darted for the rooms remaining occupant, using the back of a chair as a makeshift springboard, Percy launched himself into the air at the man, catching him with a spinning heel-kick to stomach, before following it up with two quick shots to the chest and head.

Focusing on the room across the hall, Percy allowed himself to mist through into the occupied space, scaring the hell out of the men inside. He caught the first one unawares with two quick shots to the chest. Before he could fully swivel however, one of them was on Percy, landing a viscous haymaker to his temple that sent Percy staggering.

He recovered as his back hit the concrete wall behind him and caught the arm holding the knife, which was driving at his sternum. Holding the arm away from him, he pulled and latched on to the back of the man's head, before slamming it into the wall at Percy's back.

As the man fell Percy grabbed him again and held him tightly in front of his chest, as a burst of rounds exploded into the beaten mans back, taking advantage of the stunned soldier Percy tossed the body at him and charged. The soldier ducked under his comrade's body, only to be struck by Percy's strong left hook. The staggering man took two bullets before collapsing to the ground.

Percy had just reached the door to the hall, when it exploded, throwing Percy into a heap at the back of the room. Dazed he had just enough time to throw up a protective wall of water, that effectively stopped the sudden shower of bullets heading his way, as five men marched into the room, weapons unloading into his water wall.

The onslaught was already beginning to wear on his makeshift shield, as bullets began to leak through, blasting through and embedding itself in the wall over Percy's left ear. He let out a grunt as a pair hit and were embedded in his jackets lining. It stopped the bullets well enough but still hurt like a mother.

He was just beginning to formulate a makeshift plan when an animalistic snarl tore threw the room, and six razor sharp, metal claws tore into the man closest to the door. He died with gurgle as his body dropped to the ground lifeless, revealing the animal playing man that was the mutant James 'Logan' Howlett, better known by Percy as the Wolverine.

Slashed at the sides of the two men next to him, collapsing them like fleshy meat puppets, the last two turned to address the sudden new and very dangerous threat, Percy shot a pair water-like javelins pinning them to the wall.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you Logan, but what the hell?" Percy's voice came in a slight pant.

Logan snorted and offered a hand up to Percy, who graciously accepted, "Your boy Coulson called" his voice was gruff, like sandpaper rubbing against sandpaper. More growl than voice, "Said he'd owe me one if I dragged you and Barton out of the shit"

Percy snorted at that, "Either way, thanks for the save" Logan didn't say anything merely grunting as he sniffed at the air.

"They're getting organized" he stopped sniffing and looked like he was straining his ears now, "I'll deal with the stragglers, you go find your bad guy and end this."

Percy nodded, throwing a new clip into his pistol as he did so. Then he closed his eyes and focused, truly and deeply, willing the information he sought to come to him. He got his answer quickly enough; "He's one floor up, good luck" Logan nodded before extending his claws out, and tearing out the door into a cacophony of screaming and shooting.

Percy focused his will once again, before misting his way into a room a floor above, where the water had told him Rostam was. He landed with a knife in his shoulder. Before he was fully aware of what was happening two quick blows landed on either side of his head, and a viscous kick sent him soaring across the room.

He rose to his feet; his vision blurred slightly, his shoulder felt like it was on fire. Reaching up with his right hand he pulled the ornate dagger out of his shoulder, and rose, slightly wobbly, to his feet.

"Well that was a rather rude way to say hello, now wasn't it Rosty?" he said, his eyes meeting the man who had eluded them for so long, the man who was at least partially responsible for so many dead, so many more hurt.

Rostam rose an eyebrow, his voice coming out low and smooth, "So is breaking in unannounced to a strangers home and killing his friends and family."

"Well yeah…but still….dick move man" Percy really was the king of comebacks.

"You're supposed to be dead" Rostam said, as the pair began to circle one another, gauging their opponent, making calculations and plans of attack.

"Funny" Percy said, rolling his shoulder in attempt to get some feeling back into it, "People keep trying to kill me, and it just never seems to stick. I wonder when they'll realize that me and death is just a bad combination."

He sneered "Typical Greek, arrogant to the last, I'm going to enjoy wiping the smile from your face"

Percy frowned and he stopped moving, crossing his arms in front of him "Why is it that everyone I fight is such a stereotype? First Stane, now you? Come on man it's just not even fun at this point."

"My pain is funny to you, punk?" he said, stopping as well and tensing his muscles, ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

"What pain? The Persians haven't been a thing in like…forever or something, look I'm not great at history but it sort of seems like all of this is coming from nowhere at this point. I mean didn't the Persian gods fade after Alexander kicked your asses?"

Rostam actually growled at that, "Don't you dare say that name around me. And though our God's may be momentarily gone, they will be back, and your kind will pay for what you have done to us"

"What we've done? Bro we haven't anything to you in like, two thousand years or something, why does this matter so much" Percy was making a mistake now he was letting this man get his guard down, and since when did he monologue? Percy never monologued. "Look I don't really care at this point, so I'm going to start beating you now." And with that he launched himself at Rostam,

Apparently Rostam had also allowed his guard to drop, as Percy caught him hard with a punch in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Doubling over, Percy caught him with a hard right hook, but his jab with his left hand was caught, and Percy suffered a hard punch to the kidney.

Percy shook off the attack and hopped back a pace, he had gotten a pair of good shots in but now he needed to regroup. Rostam growled and pulled a knife out of the holster at his waist, and charged at Percy.

Percy batted away the first slash, and Rostam kicked out at Percy's knee, but he raised it up and blocked it, and Percy kicked his the man's leg toppling him over.

"I gotta say, I was expecting more out of you Rosty" he taunted, letting a smirk play on his face as he stood over Rostam. "This was playing out in my head to be a hell of a fight, and this is honestly just pathetically boring." Except Rostam wasn't rising to the bait, instead, he was smiling.

That's never a good sign, when the bad guy is getting whooped on and suddenly begins smiling or chuckling, you should look out, cause it normally never meant something good. This turned out to be the case for Percy as a blast of fire smashed into Percy like a wrecking ball, blasting him across the room and setting his jacket on fire.

With a yelp he rolled over before tossing the jacket away and dousing it in water.

"What the hell was that!" he shouted, more than a little confused, as far as he had been aware, Rostam sure as hell shouldn't have had the ability to chuck fireballs, the size of a fire hydrant, and like it was an everyday occurrence. This was why he hated not having intel, you missed out on important stuff like crazy fire throwing assholes.

Rostam rose, chuckling as he did so, "That, Perseus, middle name unknown, Jackson" Percy gave him a look, but Rostam ignored him, "Was the power of Darius"

Now Percy was very confused, "Uh…what? Man I'm not like, super great with this type of thing but I'm pretty sure that Darius was just a normal dude, King of a pretty big empire sure, but he wasn't like a god or something."

"You wouldn't know the first thing about Persia if it bit you in the ass Jackson! Now die" he punctuated his absurd statement with another fireball that Percy had to roll away from. He tried to form a water whip but fond that nothing happened.

"Can't use any water if there's none in the air asshole" Rostam shouted, throwing more fire around now, the desk next to Percy, erupted in a shower of flames causing Percy to dive out of the way again.

He landed next to his smoldering jacket and camelback. He grabbed the pair and took cover behind a concrete pillar to inspect the damage. The Jacket was a lost cause but the camelback was still in tact, good.

He formed a quick, albeit slightly desperate plan and he slipped it on opening a valve on the back as he did so and grasped it tightly in his left hand. He would need to get close, with all of the heat around them it would be impossible at range. He pulled his pistol from his holster and fired in the general direction of Rostam, not in the hopes of hitting him, but in catching him off guard for a moment.

It worked, the bullets pinged off of the wall to his left, but served to distract him long enough for Percy to make a run at him. As Rostam was turning back to look at Percy, he chucked the camelback at Rostam focusing his will on the water inside as he did so. The pack was just about eye-level with Rostam when it exploded like a hand grenade.

Percy didn't waste a second pounced on top of the fallen man's body, and restraining him with 'cuffs made especially for super powered beings.

"The hell happened in here?" came a voice from the doorway, and Percy looked up in time to lock gazes with Clint, looking a little weathered but no worse for wear otherwise. "Looks like a firestorm or something swept through here."

Percy just collapsed on his rear next to the fallen body of Rostam, "It's been a weird night for me man."

BREAK

It didn't take long for a clean up crew to arrive and begin packing away the bodies, there were more dead than there were prisoners, a hazard whenever Logan was involved.

Percy had just finished putting Rostam into a containment carrier when Coulson drove in. "A little late to be joining the party Phil" snarked Clint from over Percy's shoulder, but Coulson ignored him, choosing instead to address Logan.

"Thank you, Mr. Howlett, I owe you for this" Coulson said, extending a hand to shake. Logan ignored it.

"Just do me a favor and keep us updated whenever you find one of ours and we'll call it square." Coulson nodded at that, saying he would. Logan seemed to take that as his cue to leave and lit up a cigar he pulled from somewhere, Percy never knew where he kept the damn things. At this point he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Beast has been asking after you by the way, Jackson' he said, as he made his way toward his parked bike at the end of the street, "Do me a favor a stop by, gets him off my ass for a bit."

Percy just chuckled, "Will do, see you Saturday." And with that Logan left.

"You get anything out of him before you beat him unconscious?" Percy nearly jumped out of his skin at Coulson's sudden appearance at his shoulder.

"Good god you need a bell" Percy muttered, "No, other than he can control fire an seems to be under the impression that King Darius was a god. There wasn't a whole lot of room for pleasantries between us unfortunately."

Coulson clicked his tongue, evidently displeased but ultimately understanding. "I'll have some of our best work him over as soon as he wakes up"

"You going somewhere?" Percy asked, Coulson normally liked to do all of the interrogations, especially of enhanced individuals, himself. That he was relegating the duty to others meant something was happening."

"I'm making a stop at your good friend Tony Stark's in Maui, before making my way to New Mexico, something big is going on." Coulson was speaking lowly, evidently he didn't want anyone to overhear.

"Need some help?" Percy asked, Coulson looked shifty, almost nervous. That was never a good thing. Whatever could get the king spook spooked, was by rule, a bad day waiting to happen.

"As much as I would appreciate it, that's a no go. I don't think it would be a very good idea to introduce you two just yet. At least, not until we're certain we know what we're dealing with."

Now Percy was very interested, but didn't say any more, he knew better by now than to push his luck where Coulson was concerned. "And besides" Coulson continued, "You've got another assignment?"

Percy couldn't stop the groan that escaped his lips, "Are you kidding me right now?"

"Nope", there was almost a hint of a smile on that stupid smug face, and Percy really wanted to smack it off.

"Where, when and doing what?" Percy asked with a sigh, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. When he lowered them, the look on Coulson's face almost scared him more than the pits of Tartarus. Coulson was never smiling, it wasn't allowed, Percy was certain it was in his contract somewhere.

"You, agent Jackson, are going to the Arctic. Hope you got some bait tackle at home, because you're going fishing."

 _AN: Sup everybody, hope ya'll are doing well and enjoyed the chapter. I've been getting a lot of advice recently from some of you and I really appreciate it, this type of writing is very different from the analytical and research based writing I do for school and work so I've kind of just been making it up as I go along but I feel like I'm finally starting to get a feel for it. I appreciate any feedback I can get and hope you guys are excited for whats to come. This arc was pretty much just me trying to get a handle for writing Percy and just fanfiction in general but now we're about to jump into the meat of things! Thanks again for the support and for those still in school good luck on your finals, for those starting your jobs or continuing, keep it up and keep being awesome._

 _All the best,_

 _LilDB_


	9. Percy's Polar Bear Plunge

"Ok, how about we take a step back, rewind, and try that again. What the hell are you talking about Phil. We're not even close to being done here and you want to go fishing?"

Percy was exasperated. Despite the apparent success of their mission, there was still a lot of work left to be done, and Coulson's inane ramblings were far from helpful or constructive.

Clint had found the drug stores on the higher levels of the building; a quick count revealed that all that had been taken were stored there, with the exception of the few cases that had already been used. They had also taken over twenty prisoners, the rest were dead, killed by either Clint or Percy, or utterly mutilated by Logan.

A team had discovered the transport and weapons cache that were clearly meant to be used in the attack on the camp. They were promptly destroyed. But despite all of these apparent successes there were still questions left unanswered: who was the red haired women who was seemingly behind it all, and what was she planning next.

A voice cut through air disrupting whatever response Coulson was about to give. "You'll have to excuse Agent Coulson, Agent Jackson, he's a little excited. You could say that this is a bit of a dream come true for him"

The three, Percy Clint and Coulson, turned to address the new speaker a large African-American man strode toward them, his black trench coat sweeping across the ground as he did so. His one good eye, the other covered in a large black eye patch, was sweeping the perimeter seemingly scanning for any possible threats.

It might have come across to the casual observer as slightly paranoid, but if there was anyone who had reason to be paranoid of threats from shadows, it was Nick Fury, director of SHIELD.

"You did good today Jackson, real good, you too Barton." His voice was low, clipped, and demanded your attention and your respect.

"Uh…thank you? No offense, but who are you?" Clint groaned beside him, apparently he'd asked a stupid question. Coulson compounded this,

"Director Fury sir, I didn't know you were going to be joining us" and just like that Percy felt like the overwhelmed and scared twelve year-old he'd been in that throne room so very long ago, and managed to do the one thing now, that he hadn't been able to then. He wisely shut his mouth.

To his credit, Fury didn't say anything about it, instead he addressed Coulson, "The preparations are ready then?"

"Yes sir, we got word of their completion an hour ago. We were merely waiting on Agents Jackson and Barton to finish up here, before we sent Agent Jackson on his way."

"And the drugs?"

"Accounted for. All eight batches save for thirteen doses, but we know thanks to Agent Jackson that they had begun the injection process shortly before we arrived."

Clint chimed in, "I ran into their little injection chamber on my way down the building, we caught them literally as they began injecting the stuff."

Coulson picked up from there, "And we believe that once tested, the men and the bodies recovered will account for the missing doses."

"Good Work, have the prisoners prepped for transport, I want them on the Carrier to be dealt with as soon as possible."

"Already on it sir, we also took the liberty of packing Agent Jackson's extended stay bag, he is good to go at your command."

"Good, we've got some loose ends left to deal with before we can move. Have them ready to move in seventy-two hours."

"Very good sir."

This was where Percy's patience lost out, "What the hell is going on here?!" he hated being left out of the loop and talked about as if he wasn't there. He was not in the mood for whatever was going on.

Fury didn't answer for a moment, his eye narrowing as he appraised Percy. Percy had that feeling of being twelve again, stronger this time. There was something piercing about Fury's gaze, as though he could see right past you and into your very being. Percy didn't like it. It made him uncomfortable.

"Where do you live again?" the abruptness of the question threw Percy for a loop, when he managed to recover slightly he told him, albeit slightly apprehensively as he was still very confused, and growing more so by the second. "Come on Jackson, I'll give you a lift myself."

Percy shared a glance with Clint, who gave a very slight, almost unperceivable nod, telling Percy it was ok, before Percy reluctantly agreed. They followed Fury to a black truck, the type of vehicle that just screams "Federal Agent" and Percy climbed into the back.

The seats were arranged in a large 'U' so that the occupants in the back could all face one another. Percy took the seat furthest from the door, with the Coulson, Clint, and finally Fury filing in and taking seats after him. Once they were all settled in, Fury knocked twice on the wall separating the driver and front seat from the back and the truck roared to life, and they set off.

"You have questions Jackson, and I have some answers" Percy nodded, he knew better than to talk right now. Fury opened a pouch under the seat and pulled a keyboard up into his lap. He tapped a few keys and the image of the red-haired woman from Percy's dream popped up on a screen next to Fury's right ear.

"Is this the woman you saw?"

"Yeah, that's her. We know who she is then?"

"Cassandra Carmichael."

Percy swore quietly, under his Breathe. Fury looked at him speculatively.

"You know who she is then?" Percy nodded, "Then you also know exactly why we have to back off." Percy couldn't help himself as he groaned and sank in his seat, raising his hands to rub at his eyes in irritation, a nervous habit he'd never fully been able to abandon.

Cassandra Carmichael was something of a New York legend, owner of Carmichael Consolidated; she was one of the leading names in renewable energy. She had friends and allies in almost every major city in the lower forty-eight, as well as international support.

Unfortunately, this meant that she was nigh untouchable without concrete evidence, and stealing a drug that didn't technically exist, and injecting into people whose very existence was a state secret wasn't exactly something that would appease any jury. The fact of the matter was, even her connection to the attacks was iffy, and SHIELD trusted Percy and if he said something was so they believed him, but unfortunately it made something like this more complicated.

At the end of the day, Carmichael was a public figure, a very public figure, and if SHIELD were to attempt to bring her down quietly, her sudden disappearance would raise questions. Good intentions or not, SHIELD was still a government organization and had rules and regulations to follow. While they tended to blur the line on occasion and found they could get away with a lot, typically it wasn't high-profile beloved American philanthropists they were targeting.

"We'll put her under 24/7 watch, now that we know who to look at, the moment she steps a toe out of line, we'll take her down, hard." Percy could appreciate that; he sat back up in his chair and folded his arms behind his head slightly defeated.

"Well that makes me feel a little better I guess. Thank you sir. What about the camp?"

"We had teams stationed a few miles outside the camp's entrance and along its perimeter in case there was a second, previously unidentified source. There was not, the teams you and Agent Barton took down were the only ones at her disposal, at least the only ones ready to attack. She won't be making any noise for a while."

Percy could be marginally content with that, "Now as to the matter of that little tiara, we don't want your people knowing the truth about what happened last night."

Percy snorted, "I agree but Annabeth was shot, her mom won't like that, and Lady A doesn't take dishonesty all that well. I may be in her semi-good graces but it wouldn't stop her from turning me into a jackrabbit if she found out I was lying to her." He looked Fury directly in his eye for the first time "But I assume you already have that covered?"

Fury smirked, the first genuine human emotion he'd seen on the man since Percy had met him, he then tapped a few more keystrokes and the image of Vandervort came back onto the screen, "I assume you remember our little friend here?"

Percy caught on quickly, "You're going to Mayhew this aren't you?" Fury nodded, then motioned for him to continue, "Put it out there that we may or may not have come into contact with someone with the Tiara, put it under minimal security at the Natural History Museum and let them take it back"

Fury's smirk grew, "Coulson was right about you kid."

"Have I ever led you wrong sir?" Coulson asked, not quite preening at the half-compliment. Fury gave no answer to that. Instead gave him shot him a look; there was a brief silence as they seemingly shared a conversation before Coulson spoke again. "He led the investigation flawlessly, he handled unexpected shifts in circumstances as well if not better than I could have; he communicated well with me and those around him, and wasn't afraid to ask for help or the guidance of his subordinates. His situational awareness and his ability to gather intelligence where we couldn't is an undeniable asset. He has my approval."

Percy was getting more confused by the moment, Fury was asking for a mission assessment with Percy in the car! Percy turned to look at Clint, to see if he looked as lost as Percy felt, only to meet with a totally relaxed and understanding man. Clint looked as if what was happening made perfect sense, like he understood exactly what was going and it only served to confuse Percy more. Clearly Clint was in on whatever was happening.

Percy's suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Fury addressed Clint. "And you?" he said simply.

"He came up with the best plan given the circumstances and managed to quickly and effectively smother the threat before any damage could be done to the area around us. He kept it contained and managed a level head in a situation where that would have been difficult for anyone else. Kid's got my vote."

"Ok seriously! What in the name of all that is mighty, is on right now" He felt like he was repeating himself, like the last thirty minutes was just playing on repeat and nothing was making any more sense. He was tired, sore, frustrated and really just wanted to sleep. His stomach was hurting and he was beginning to fell kind of dizzy, he just wanted a straight answer.

That was when Fury finally addressed him, seemingly satisfied with the reports of Percy's compatriots. "Agent Jackson, what do you know about the Avengers Initiative?"

BREAK

Percy pulled the large overcoat tighter to him as the bitter winds raked across his face, harsh and brutal. Not even being at sea could protect him from this kind of harsh chill. He turned, releasing his grip on the handrail of the ship and proceeded to head below deck, trying to eyeball anything in this kind of wind was utterly useless.

It had been three weeks since he had infiltrated the Persian safe-house, three weeks aboard an enormous ship in the Arctic Ocean, designed to break through the frozen waters of the northern tundra, three weeks of searching for a ghost.

As cranked open the large door, feeling a rush of wonderfully warm air overcome him as he headed below deck, he reflected on the series of events that led him here.

Director Fury had informed him that ever since the incidents at Stark Industries he had been considered for a special program know as the Avengers Initiative, a group meant to bring together supremely talented and exceptional individuals to serve as a first line of defense against the unknown.

Percy had been understandably a little overwhelmed by the proposition, and he was informed that he would have time to think on it, and consider the situation before responding. That was when he was dumped unceremoniously at his front door, before being summoned to the throne room of Olympus.

He then spent the next several hours debriefing the Olympians of everything that had happened, he even used the opportunity to let it slip that SHIELD had come into possession of some sort of artifact and had given it to the Natural History Museum but that he hadn't been privy to the information. It had been at that point that Artemis quietly excused herself from the meeting and wasn't seen again for the duration of the meeting.

With that problem dealt with Percy then had to set about convincing Zeus that going to war with the Persians was not only a fool hardy endeavor, but that they would be playing right into Carmichael's hands. By attacking a woman who only claimed to hold godly Persian lineage and on mortal territory, they would essentially be encroaching on Mortal territory.

Percy managed to convince the council that they would be monitoring the situation fully and that, for the moment, the crisis had been effectively dealt with. When Percy woke up, he had been cashed out on his couch with a note from Carol listing out how he owed her for carrying his "sorry drunken ass up into his room" and that she would be collecting when she came back from an extended business trip.

After a shower, a trip to the Annabeth's office to check in and apologize, and dinner at his mothers house, he hadn't called or talked to her in far too long and received a thorough chewing out as a result, he was picked up by a SHIELD escort and taken to a transport hub where he was flown to a substation in Alaska. Upon his landing at the station he was briefed on what it was he would be doing.

He would be working with a survey team attempting to find the location of Captain Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America. Several months previously the Hulk had an episode in the Arctic and his tantrum was caught on SHIELD satellite feeds. In the video an particularly eagle eyed tech agent spotted what looked like a body encased in ice. Further research concluded that it was in roughly the same location that the good Captain had crash landed seventy years ago.

That had all been three weeks ago, which brought Percy to where he was now, freezing his butt off in the middle of nowhere and not even a good cup of coffee to keep him happy.

Entering the cabin that was being used to scan the seafloor for anything unusual, he strode to a woman situated in the center of the room, who was currently playing with a series of knobs and switches on her station that was doing something Percy didn't understand.

"Please tell me you something for me Shultz." He pleaded, and Agent Debbie Shultz tore her eyes away from the monitor just long enough to look Percy in the eye.

"Nothing yet sir, but we're closing in, I'm sure of it."

Percy let out a frustrated sigh and collapsed into a folding chair next to her, shrugging his large overcoat off as he did so.

"I thought we knew where he was."

"We had a rough idea but it seems when the Hulk lost control, it did much more damage to the surrounding area than we originally thought. I believe that, given the video evidence, the Hulk should have knocked the Captain in this general direction somewhere between five-to fifty kilometers"

"That's a hell of a range Shultz" Percy deadpanned, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his legs.

Shultz merely shrugged, "Sorry boss, but that's all we got given-" she stopped suddenly and began twirling and typing and pushing buttons more quickly, Percy could make out a faint 'ping' noise coming from the headset over her ears.

He leaned forward suddenly much more awake and alert, "You got something?"

"I don't know, it could be something, it could be nothing, Clancy! Gimme a boost here" the man a few tables away hit an input into his keypad and the 'pinging' coming from Shultz's headset grew louder and stronger. "Get the captain to stop the ship! I think we got him!"

It was dark by the time the ship had been stopped and a camp had been established out on the ice. A large drill was brought from the ship's interior and was used to carve a hole in the ice, one large enough to accommodate a small truck. Percy walked out of one of the tents on the ice and into one of the bright industrial spotlights on the ice's surface.

"You might need this" Shultz's voice from behind him caused Percy to turn around and face her. In her arms was a backpack, facemask, and air tank. Seeing the collection Percy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, Shultz had no doubt been briefed on Percy's ability to breathe underwater so he had to wonder what she was thinking. Seeing his bemused expression she clarified, "it's for him, just in case you need to break him out for any reason, you may be able to breathe under there but he certainly can't."

"As thoughtful as that is, he suggest that you do your best to keep the good captain encased in his ice prison, we do not know what kind of negative effects a sudden escape from the ice would have on his body." The speaker, Donald Morigan the head doctor in charge of overseeing the Captain's recovery, approached them bundled in a massive overcoat and heavy fur mittens and wool stocking cap.

"I'll do my best to keep the capsicle preserved doc." Percy said, grinning cheekily as he took the breathing gear from Shultz. Morigan made a noise of discontent but didn't comment any further.

Shultz spoke again as the approached the hole, motioning as she did for an attendant to bring a large cable with them.

"We know you're likely strong enough to carry him out yourself but we aren't in the business of taking any risks here. Tie the cable around him and call us up when you've got him." Percy nodded, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as the weight of the situation hit him a little more fully. He was about to rescue a legend, one of the men he'd aspired to emulate growing up. It was a little overwhelming.

He shoved the feelings down violently though and, after steeling himself, submerged himself in the water. One of the perks of being a son of the Sea God was that the water, though it should have been unforgivingly cold, felt almost warm and inviting.

He basked for a moment in the welcoming feeling, he enjoyed the warmness and the familiarity of it all, it had been far too long since he had been in the water like this and he allowed it to consume him for a moment. The warm tingling spreading from his toes to the tips of his fingers, and a laugh escaped from his lips, unhindered by the water.

"If your done playing in the water, we have a job to do"

The voice in his earpiece jolted him and he jerked, the cable at his waist constricting him as he did so, and he shook the cloudy, albeit welcome and comfortable, haze that had settled over him and set to work.

The water, which would have appeared as nothing more than an unforgiving inky blackness to anyone else, was clear and open to Percy as he scanned with his eyes.

"He should be a few kilometers down, near the ocean floor."

"Shouldn't the pressure have killed him or at least crushed the ice?"

"Theoretically, but this is Captain America we're talking about, he's not exactly normal. We'll figure it out once we have him up here safe and sound."

Percy didn't respond, instead he just angled himself downward and proceeded to swim towards the sea floor. He had nearly reached it when a glimmer of red caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Swiveling to his right he saw it, the red and white stripes the lined the chest piece of the famed super soldier, reflected and refracted in the ice Percy couldn't make out specific details, but it was certainly something.

Swimming around the to the backside of the block of ice he delivered a hard punch, moving at the same speed and velocity it would have on the surface, and dislodged the large chunk of ice imprisoning the Captain.

Percy watched as it slowly sank further down before settling down on the floor in a puff of sand. Swimming down until he was standing next to the block, Percy braced himself against the side of the block and heaved it onto its side, so the red and white bars Percy had seen were reflecting upwards toward the surface.

"Sending you visual now for confirmation of target" Percy said into his earpiece, tapping the camera on his left shoulder and hearing it whirr into life.

"Receiving visual now." There was a moment of silence as the team on the surface observed the images, "That's our boy, hook him up and bring him up."

Smiling to himself Percy wrapped the cable around the massive ice block, "We're good on this end, whenever you're ready" the response came when the cable and harness went taut and the block was lifted out of the ice. Grabbing hold of the cable, Percy allowed himself to be carried up, watching as the lights from the spotlights on the surface grew brighter and brighter.

BREAK

The afterlife, Steve decided, was decidedly warm, which was pretty much what he had expected, and exceedingly more comfortable than he had anticipated. He shouldn't have been all that surprised though; the Father's had said as much in their sermons when he was a kid.

What he hadn't expected was how dark it was, he had always heard that there was a bright light when you were at your end, that heaven was bright, unless he wasn't in heaven, unless he was actually in the other place. It wasn't all that surprising to him really, if that was where he had ended up. He had, had to do some pretty terrible things during the war, things he wasn't proud of, but still, if he was in the bad place, then why was he so comfortable. That certainly didn't mesh the image he had been taught, nor the one he had imagined,

As his confusion grew, a small light came into existence, no bigger than a candles flame and it didn't illuminate any of his surroundings but it sparked a small feeling of hope in him. Maybe he wasn't in hell after all!

The light grew bigger, more powerful, and encompassing, and suddenly, where before there was no sound, a steady beeping filled his ears, and something else, something he couldn't quite distinguish but felt familiar all the same.

He became conscious that he was laying on something, something pillowy and soft, and the scent of antiseptics and rubbing alcohol filled his nostrils. That didn't seem right, for the first time a sense of doubt entered his mind, maybe he wasn't dead, he had never heard anything about heaven smelling like a field hospital, and he was pretty certain that was exactly what that smell was.

With a great amount of effort, he forced himself to open his eyes, and to sit upright. He was momentarily stunned by the sudden flood of light and had to shield his eyes with his hands as he took time to adjust to his surroundings.

His analysis had been correct, he was in a hospital room, where, he wasn't sure yet, but it certainly felt like an American hospital.

"The Phillies have managed to tie it up at four-to-four and…" As he sat upright in the small, cramped bed, his attention was drawn to the radio nestled on the cabinet in front of his bed, that was weird, he thought to himself, it sounded really familiar for some reason.

"Three runs will score, Ryder heads to third. Derossi's gonna wave him in, here comes the relay but they wont get it…" his attention was torn away from the radio as the door to his room opened up, and a pretty women with long brunette hair in curls strode into the room.

"Good morning" she smiled sweetly. "Or should I say afternoon" she corrected, looking at her watch.

He could only stare, his muscles tight, and tense. Something was wrong here, this wasn't right, and there was something aggravatingly familiar about that game that he couldn't place.

"Where am I" he said after a moment of silence had passed. His hands gripped the edge of the bed tightly.

"You're in a recovery room in New York City"

No he wasn't, he turned to look back at the radio, as it clicked in his head. Something was wrong here, something was really, really wrong. This wasn't right, he didn't know where he was but he knew that whoever this women was, she was hiding something.

She smiled uncertainly, she was a good actress he would grant her that much, but he wouldn't be fooled, "I'm afraid I don't understand"

"The game" he said tightly, his never leaving hers as he coiled the muscles in his legs ready to spring into action at a moments notice. "It's from May, 1941, I know 'cause I was there."

That drew a visible reaction out of her as she recoiled, taking a step back as Steve rose, slowly, from his position on the bed. "Now I'm going to ask you again-" he never got to finish his thought though, as voices rang out from the hallway where the mystery women walked out from.

"I don't give a damn what he said , he's not here, I am, and I say that this is a stupid idea and if you want to stop me you're welcome to try." The voice was muffled but clearly audible through the doorway, and it did nothing to put Steve at ease as he settled himself into a stance.

Before he could act though the door was yanked open and a man, roughly his height, a strong build, clean black hair and shinning green eyes strode into the room. He only briefly looked at Steve, whose eyes went to the new man's hip where a gun, though he'd never seen one of that model before, lay in a sharp leather holster, before he addressed the women.

"You. Out." He said simply, pointing to the door, "I don't care what your orders are, this whole idea is stupid and I'm calling it off, now leave before I make you." The women didn't need to be told twice as she scampered out of the room.

The man sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair while muttering to himself, "Of all the stupid…" He turned and closed the door, before unbuckling the holster on his hip and setting it on top of the dresser, it was a peace offering, one that Steve respected and appreciated as he settled his stance slightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

The man finished setting down his gun and turned to address Steve a smile on his lips. It was an easy going, goofy smile, the kind that set you at ease, and for whatever reason Steve felt an implicit impulse to trust the man. He at least seemed much more genuine and honest than the women who had entered previously, but Steve was still slightly on edge. He wanted to know what was happening.

As if reading his mind, the man's smile widened, showing bright white teeth, "You've got questions Cap, and I got answers. But first, an introduction I think," he held out his hand "My name's Percy Jackson sir, welcome to the 21st century."

 _AN: Hey there party people! hope y'all are doing well and enjoyed the chapter, I've been getting some really helpful advice from you guys and just wanted to say that I really appreciate it. Like I said before, writing in a narrative format is not something I've ever really done before so I've kind of just been making it up as I go along and I love whatever help I get. I decided that I needed to get things moving forward a bit and so I decided to simply summarize instead of dedicating what likely would have been just an entire chapter of discussion and arguing with Fury, the Olympians and others and I decided that I'd done too much of that kind of needless exposition in the past. I also just really wanted to get the plot moving forward a bit more and begin moving into the the second real story arc, the Avengers Arc. So strap in because it only gets better and more intense from here! Thanks again for the love, support and help!_

 _-LilDB_


	10. The Gang Gets Together

Late summer in New York had always been one of his favorite times of the year, it was just the right mix of warm that you could wear pants outside and not overheat but also not be too cold in a light shirt. Steve felt his eyes wander around the small café, watching the patrons and their interactions with great interest. It served as one of the few practices he engaged in that kept him sane in the mess that his life had become. It served to keep him grounded in some semblance of reality, that this was all real, and not just some fantasy his mind had concocted in the last moments of his life. To see normal, everyday people, interacting and living their lives was something he didn't take lightly, it also allowed him to play out his own deepest fantasies, that he could be one of those normal individuals, worrying not about the next crisis or war, but of what he was having for dinner, or who was courting who. It was his greatest guilty pleasure.

As he watched a pair of rather animated young men, quite good friends from their interactions, he couldn't escape the small pang in his own heart as he was once again reminded of the brother he had lost, his best friend, comrade, his family. He missed Bucky truly and deeply, but he knew that it would do his memory no service for Steve to dwell on past regrets, if nothing else, his friend would have wanted him to move on with his life, to live for those who no longer were, Steve knew he could do Bucky that service at least. And he truly was trying, he had even made something of a friend with Agent Jackson, or Percy as the young man insisted he be called.

Steve frowned as he thought on his new ally; he didn't truly know Percy well enough to call him a friend he supposed. The man was genuine though, a truly honest and thoughtful individual if Steve had ever met one. Percy had been spending the past several weeks attempting to help Steve acclimate to the strange new world he suddenly found himself in. Percy had shown tremendous patience and thoughtfulness as he helped Steve, never once snapping at a question that was likely obvious or asinine to the young man and Steve immensely appreciated the effort Percy was going through to help him. He knew that his little stunt in Steve's wake-up room had cost Percy and that he'd had to deal with a rather thorough chewing out by his superiors but the young man just took it in stride, threw an arm over Steve's shoulder and told him that Steve was going to be stuck with Percy for a while longer.

A thought occurred to Steve as he took a sip from his coffee, he had been so thoroughly lost looking at the menu at the café that when the waitress finally just suggested he get a black coffee he was pretty sure his relief must have been palpable. But as he sipped he realized that despite the innumerable amount of time he'd spent with Percy, he still knew nothing about the man. He frowned slightly and crossed his arms over his chest as he concentrated, it wasn't that Percy had ever lied about something, Steve was good at reading people, but he was also aware enough to know that Percy purposefully evaded any question that got too personal. He would be in the middle of telling Steve one amusing anecdote or another and when he reached a part of his story that he suddenly realized was treading too carefully on personal grounds he would dramatically shift or obviously tread around the topic.

It was easier to note what Steve actually knew about the young man than what he didn't, he knew he had a mother whom he loved thoroughly, something Steve immensely approved of, thoughts of his own mother always prevalent in his mind. He knew his father wasn't around, "lost at sea" while it hadn't been a lie, there was definitely more to it there, but he knew better than to pry. Steve had also looked into the young man briefly after their initial meeting and had been shocked to see that he had been a fugitive when he was a child. When Steve confronted Percy about he closed up tighter than a porthole and said that the charges were dropped and said nothing more.

A voice rang out before Steve could reflect any more, "There you are!" speak of the devil and he shall be sure to appear. Steve barely hid his mild surprise as the familiar tall form of Percy Jackson sauntered into view, "This seat taken?" he asked, smiling underneath his dark sunglasses his light, black jacket blowing slightly in the wind. Steve simply shook his head and nodded at the aforementioned chair and Percy plopped down across from him, smiling like a goon.

"How the heck did you find me Percy?"

Percy laughed, "Finding people is kinda my job Steve, and I'll have you know I'm very good at my job." At Steve's raised eyebrow, Percy sighed before responding, "Alright I stopped by your apartment complex and when you didn't answer I asked your neighbor, you know Ms. Shelly in 3C, she's really nice and she even offered me fresh baked scones, dude, Steve I've never had scones before and I can tell you honestly that-"

"Percy" Steve said, snapping the man out of his rant on baked goods, Percy sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit Steve noticed.

"Right, sorry, anyways so I asked her when you left and she said that you left about an hour ago."

"That only gives you a timeframe though Percy"

"If you would stop interrupting me I'll get to it!" Steve raised his hands off the table in a gesture of surrender, "Anyway, there was a hotdog stand on the corner, I bought a water and he told me that you were heading off this way, after that it was just a matter of logic really, you weren't likely to be in any of the shopping boutiques or business centers and you were probably looking for something kind of familiar, and that's when I noticed the café, it was the only logical place within walking distance."

Steve was rather impressed but hid it well, resourcefulness like that was a valuable trait to have. "Observant" he said passively, drawing a pleased smile out of Percy, a look that was not all that dissimilar to a child being praised from his teacher and he sat down, slouching with one arm on the back of his chair.

"So" Percy started, "What's wrong?"

Steve was thrown off by the sudden question, "Nothing…why do you ask?"

Percy just shrugged and paused for a moment before answering, casually calling over the waitress and asking for a glass of water, no ice. He waited until the glass was in front of him before speaking.

"You're not sleeping, are you" it was more of a statement of fact rather than a question, nevertheless, Percy didn't wait for a reply, "It's the noise isn't it? That's what it was for me man, the noise of the city, of people just being people and living their lives as if nothing was wrong. And that's the problem right? There's uncertainty there, we don't know what it is, cause that's not what we have been trained for. Over there, we know what the noises are, what they mean and there's safety there, but here, where we're "safe" in our "home" there's more uncertainty than ever and it's terrifying. Information saves lives, but more than that it's a safety valve, if we know what we're hearing we can qualify it, can't do that here, there's too much going on, too much noise."

He paused and Steve found himself holding his breath, Percy finally looked away from the water he had been staring at so intently, and looked Steve in the eye. For the first time since he'd met the man there was darkness in Percy's gaze and it was palpable, even more startling was the power that seemed to be radiating from the man as his sea green eyes seemed to glow iridescently in the mid-morning light.

"I won't pretend to understand your position or what you went through but I know exactly how and what you're feeling and let me tell you Steve that you will be able to overcome it. It doesn't get easier, hell it doesn't get better, but it gets manageable and you don't need to do it alone."

Percy paused again and the glow faded from his eyes and the same cheerful, lackadaisical grin he was familiar with. "I don't expect or even want you to open yourself up here and now, you need time to think and probably someone more qualified to talk to than myself, so instead you're going to finish your drink, pay your bill, tip the cute waitress who has been making eyes at you since you sat." Steve's cheeks brightened and a clang sounded out as the waitress in question abruptly dropped what she was holding in embarrassment. Percy only grinned and continued,

"And then you're going to follow. We're going to the gym."

BREAK

Percy noted with no small amusement that Mac, the gyms owner and manager, likely wouldn't be too pleased when he came back in on Monday to find he was about six punching bags down. Percy casually leaned out of the way as the space his head had previously inhabited was suddenly filled with a seventh bag. Steve hadn't said anything since they'd arrived, and probably for the better, it was all too soon for him to begin venting his frustrations to Percy. He was pleased to notice, however, that the tension in Steve's shoulders had most certainly loosened, and certainly seemed much more loosely wound than when Percy found him. The pair was drawn away from their thoughts and musings as the sound of footsteps permeated the small gym.

"Trouble sleeping?" asked Fury, striding over to where Percy was standing, Percy tried to not smirk as he saw Steve's brow twitch slightly before he responded sharply, striking the newly replaced bag as he did so.

"I've slept for seventy years sir. I think I've had my fill."

Fury took a step forward as he spoke, and Percy noticed for the first time the file tucked under his arm.

"Then you should be out celebrating, seeing the world."

Steve shot Percy a slightly incredulous look, before he stopped his mad punching and walked over to a small bench, sitting down as he took the tape off of his hands.

"I went under, the world was at war. I wake up, and they say we won. They didn't say what we lost." Steve shot, a little bitterly.

"We've made some mistakes-" Fury started but Percy cut him off,

"You here with a mission sir?" he asked with a pointed look that said to drop it, Fury nodded.

"I am"

"Trying to get me back into the world?" asked Steve as he pulled the last of the tape off of his fingers.

"Trying to save it" and Fury handed the file to Steve, before pulling a secondary out from his coat and handed it to Percy, all the while still focusing his attention on Steve.

Percy grabbed it deftly and opened the file. He let loose a low whistle from his lips as he took in what he read. He was so ensnared in his readings he almost missed Steve when he murmured,

"Hydra's secret weapon."

Fury nodded, "Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you. He thought what we think, the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs."

"Who took it from you?"

"He's called Loki"

Percy rounded on him, sure that he had misheard the man.

"What did you say?" he demanded

"I said" said Fury calmly, seemingly oblivious to the rage mounting in the man next to him, "That he is called Loki"

It was silent for a moment as Steve looked between the two. In the weeks he had known Percy he had never seen such a look of pure unadulterated anger on his face, as though Fury had personally insulted him in some way.

Percy closed his eyes and slowly felt out for the water in the air, hoping it would calm him down enough before he said something he regretted. His temper had always been a hindrance, he was quick to fly off the handle and go into a rage if truly angered, and even with temperament and emotional training he still had difficulties masking his anger.

Once the storm had subsided somewhat, he managed to ground out through clenched teeth, "And why the hell, is this the first I've been hearing about this, Director." He added as an afterthought.

Fury regarded him for a moment before walking away slowly towards the boxing ring in the middle of the gym. "Because Agent Jackson there factors that we were not yet sure of and we didn't want to present you or your people." He said, emphasizing the last bit, " this information without being certain of the facts at hand." He turned around and raised both of his hands up in a stupefied manner, "Hell we still aren't entirely sure what we're dealing with but we are certain of one thing and that is his powers are the real deal."

Percy was breathing heavily now, and his heart was thumping against his chest so hard that he had a passing thought that it might leap out of his chest. As clenched and unclenched his fist in frustration he growled, "Do we need to be concerned about any familial involvement?"

"The brother is…a possibility we have considered " Fury admitted, and it looked as though it pained him considerably to do so. Likely because he knew exactly what the response to the statement would be.

"You say that like you've already made contact with one of them before." Percy said, his voice now a low quiet rumble, when Fury didn't respond he asked, "You already made contact." It was a statement of fact, not a question. "When?"

"New Mexico, two months ago, Agents Coulson and Barton contacted and engaged the Brother in a small town that nearly destroyed it."

If Percy had been angry before, he furious, livid, and level of rage not quantifiable by mere words.

"Then why the hell was I not informed!" He roared, and Steve could have sworn that the ground shook with the cry of rage. However, it seemed as though Fury was not dismayed in the least by the demonstration.

"We were unsure as to the severity of the situation, additionally they left almost as soon as they arrived, the situation was handled and we felt that unless it happened again there was no reason to inform you."

"Well clearly that didn't pan out not did it" Percy shot back, "We had a deal Fury, I've kept up my end of the bargain but I sure as hell expect to be kept in the loop if I'm going to continue and be a part of your merry band of misfits." Fury remained silent, and Percy took that as his answer, turning on his heel and marching out of the building. He was just about at the door when Fury called,

"They have Agent Barton"

Percy stopped dead, unsure whether he heard or not. He turned around, fixing Fury with his coldest glare.

"Explain" he said slowly,

"We aren't sure exactly what he did but Loki has taken control of the minds of several high ranking individuals including Agent Barton. We know that he is using them and there knowledge for something the problem is we don't know what."

Percy let out a long breath. "That's playing dirty Fury."

"In this business, we can't afford to play clean."

Percy nodded wearily, and brought his hands up to rub at his face, suddenly appearing much older and more tired than a man his age ought to. He then shuffled over to the bench by Steve, and collapsed into it. Fury was right, he knew it, besides he couldn't walk out on something like this. If Loki was truly a god then he was positive that they would soon be dealing with the entire damn Pantheon before too long. With a start, he realized that this was what the Fates had been warning him about, rivals thought gone were coming back. Percy clenched his teeth, and nodded at Fury, letting him know that he wouldn't interrupt again. Though he knew that the look he sent to Fury conveyed the message that they would be talking about this again.

Percy was far from pleased that Fury had held something like this back, it went against the deal they had made, the deal that Percy had fought so hard to get for humanity, and dammit Fury had withheld this potentially astronomical discovery from him. It wasn't that he expected to be clued in to every secret SHIELD uncovered, but when it was directly related to him and his singular field of expertise he expected to be brought into the conversation. He folded his arms across his chest and squeezed his fest shut. He needed to relax a little, think through this rationally. He barely caught what Fury was saying to Steve,

"There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know."

"At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me." Steve retorted and looked over at Percy when he snorted in derision,

"Ten bucks says you're wrong"

"There's a debriefing packet waiting for you back at your apartment." Fury cut in before Steve could reply. Steve merely nodded before exchanging a brief, wordless exchange with Percy, and he picked up his bag and the pair began walking out of the gym. "Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?" Fury asked as they were almost out of sight.

"You should have left it in the ocean." Steve said sharply, and they left

BREAK

Percy watched over Steve's shoulder as the small tablet in his hand played footage from a few years ago, the day when the Hulk had attacked the army at Culver University. They were on a new prototype transport troop carrier, something Stark industries had nicknamed the Quinjet, for whatever reason, Percy didn't know. It was quiet though, the engines barely audible over the sound speaking of the pilot, who was addressing Coulson,

"We're about forty minutes out from base, sir." The pilot said, Coulson merely nodded and tapped him lightly on the shoulder before striding back to where Percy and Steve were standing. Steve looked up from the footage, a frown on his face,

"So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?"

Coulson looked slightly pained, "A lot of people were. You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."

They turn back to the footage as the Hulk roars with fury and he slams a jeep apart. "Didn't really go his way, did it?" laughed Percy,

Coulson didn't even flinch, instead he continued addressing Steve, "Not so much. When he's not that thing though, guy's like a Stephen Hawking." Percy kept laughing at Steve's expression, as he clearly was unsure as to who Stephen Hawking was,

"He's smart, smarter than everyone on this jet combined probably." Nobody had a rebuttal for that, and Steve offered a Percy a thankful smile. Coulson, however, kept talking,

"I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping." Steve looked incredulous and Percy choked on his own spit as he completely failed to stop himself from laughing. Steve, unsure of how to respond, stood up and walked over to behind the pilots, and watched out the cockpit. Coulson tried valiantly to explain himself,

I mean, I was... I was present while you were unconscious from the ice. You know, it's really, it's just a... just a huge honor to have you on board." Percy smiled; it was a weird but nice change of pace to be able to see his seemingly imperturbable commanding officer turn into a blubbering schoolboy. It helped that Steve was taking in stride, though he was clearly uncomfortable with the attention,

"Well, I hope I'm the man for the job." Steve said softly, Percy was going to say something, but Coulson beat him to the punch and he decided that he'd just let Coulson have this,

"Oh, you are. Absolutely. Uh... we've made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input." Steve finally turned to face him,

The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little... old fashioned?"

"Pot meet kettle" Coulson shot Percy a withering glare and Steve rolled his eyes but his lips curved up a little at the corners. Coulson persevered though,

"With everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned." They fell quiet then, each falling into their own thoughts.

They flew in silence for the remainder of the trip. Although, Percy couldn't help the large smile that spread on his face when he laid eyes on the large aircraft carrier, that was their likely destination. Some time at sea was exactly what would help him clear his head and mentally prepare himself for what was likely to come. Coulson saw the smile, but didn't comment, instead a knowing smirk latched onto his lips, and his eyes gained a mischievous twinkle, that went completely unnoticed by either man. Steve, for his part, was equally enthralled but for entirely different reasons. As he laid eyes on the ship a wave of familiarity and nostalgia, and allowed an equally content smile to grace his lips.

They had only just disembarked when they were approached by a familiar women with shoulder-length red hair

"Agent Romanoff. Captain Rogers." Coulson introduced, She nodded at Steve, and smirked at Percy, who responded in kind before addressing Coulson,

"They need you on the bridge. Face time." Coulson nodded sharply, his demeanor shifting slightly,

"See you there." And with that he strode off. As he left Natasha gave Steve an appraising look up and down, and looked at Percy who nodded still smiling. She began waling toward the edge of the ship, addressing the Captain as she did so,

There was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

"Trading cards?" Steve asked, incredulous, Percy laughed a deep belly laugh, Steve and Natasha turned and for the first time since knowing him, the man looked truly relaxed.

"They're vintage" he said laughing,

"He's very proud." Finished Natasha with a smile.

Steve looked between the two, eyebrow raised,

"I take it you two know each other then?" They shared a conspiratorial smile but refused to comment but that was answer enough for Steve who merely shook his head. They were about halfway across the deck when they caught sight of an anxious looking man in a ratty tan suit and slippers stumbling around trying to remain innocuous and failing miserably. Steve and Percy shared a look and Steve approached the man, hand outstretched in greeting,

" Doctor Banner," The doctor looked startled but visibly relieved to have someone to talk to,

"Oh, yeah. Hi. They told me you'd be coming."

"Word is you can find the cube."

"Is that the only word on me?" He looked immediately on edge again, rubbing his hands together and tensing like he would need to begin running at a moments notice.

"Only word I care about." Banner paused, taking in the sentiment and then smiled slightly, before someone behind them cleared their throat, and Percy stepped up his own hand outstretched and a relaxed, crookedly easy grin on his face.

"Doctor, it's an honor. Agent Percy Jackson at your service. Don't worry," he raised his free hand as though surrendering as his other grasped onto Banner's, "No seven year olds drawing you away this time."

"A pleasure agent," he said uncertainly, a shaky grin on his face, "And thank you, I'd hate to get upset and break something." It was meant as a joke but only Percy laughed. Drastically searching for a change of subject with the one person who seemed as out of place as he was, he addressed Steve once more, "Must be strange for you, all of this." He gestured around the modern carrier vaguely, as a group of soldiers jogged by. Steve watched them go with a wistful smile on his face,

"Well, this is actually kind of familiar."

Natasha interrupted the discussion as she walked up to stand next to Percy,

"Gentlemen, you may wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breath."

Just as she said this the ship began to shake and Steve and Percy exchanged a look, but the expression on Percy's face said that he had no idea what was going on either, they walked closer to the edge of the carrier until they were nearly looking over the water below,

"Is this is a submarine?" Asked Steve, slightly incredulous,

"Really? They wanted me in a submerged pressurized metal container?" said Banner sarcastically, and as he said it enormous turbines rose out of the water and began spinning. In unison both Percy and Banner shouted, because they wind was now drowning out any additional noise

"OH, NO. THIS IS MUCH WORSE."

BREAK

As the doors to the bridge opened the small party was welcomed with the sight of dozens of agents buzzing around view screens and dials in a flurry of activity. As the door to the bridge slid closed behind them with a sharp, causing Doctor Banner to jump slightly, a stern looking woman standing next to Fury shouted one final announcement to leave the area. Agent Maria Hill turned to address the commander,

"We're at lock, sir."

"Good," he said, "Let's vanish." Looking out a pair of view ports on the port starboard side Percy and Steve watched as parts of the carrier seemingly vanished. The three, Percy Banner and Steve, walked slightly forward, mouths agape in silent awe, absently Steve reaches into his pocket, and slaps a crisp ten dollar bill into Percy's chest, who just nodded dumbly.

"Gentlemen" Fury acknowledged but they didn't seem to be paying attention, he rolled his eye and approached Banner, his hand outstretched in greeting, who looks at it, slightly shocked, before reluctantly grasping hold of it.

"Doctor, thank you for coming."

"Thanks for asking nicely." Banner shifted uncomfortably, "So, uh... how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the clear." Bruce looked happy to suddenly have something to think about that wasn't remotely military in topic,

"Where are you with that?" he asked, and Fury gestured for Coulson to fill him, as Coulson approached Natasha and Percy looked over a monitor in the corner with a picture of Agent Barton, pensive but determined looks on their faces.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"That's still not going to find them in time" said Natasha, Percy just nodded and crossed his arms over chest. In situations like this he found it best to simply sit back and let the people who knew what they were doing deal with the tracking and locating. He could wait patiently for his chance to play to his strengths, namely hitting things. Very hard. Repeatedly.

"You have to narrow the field." Stated Banner, striding over to a computer terminal, "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"How many are there?" asked Fury,

As Banner responded he began rolling up his sleeves, suddenly looking much more confident, the prospect of solving a puzzle was clearly helping him get through the stress of the situation,

"Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

Percy and Steve shared a look, bemused but more than happy to stay out of the way, for his part Percy was certainly glad to have someone else to help experience the helplessness involved in letting the tech jocks do their thing.

"Agent Romanoff," ordered Fury, "Would you show to his laboratory, please."

Natasha nodded, smiling softly, "You're gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys."

As they left and as Steve wandered off to get a better look at the surrounding area, Percy decided to take his chance and approached Fury, tapping him on the shoulder and gesturing with his head out the door, Fury looked slightly agitated but nodded barking out to Hill as he did,

"Hill, take the Bridge, Jackson and I will be right back." And with that he motioned for Percy to follow him, the left out through a door on the port side and walked until they approached a small out cove and moved in until both were situated against the bulkhead,

"What do you want to know" Fury asked his eye boring into Percy,

"Everything" he responded, his voice taking on a hard edge to it. Fury sighed but nodded in resignation, reaching into an inside pocket of his trench coat he withdrew a manila envelope and handed it to Percy. Opening it, he found it was a personnel file, the picture on top was of a handsome man with a long mane of shaggy blonde hair, and angular features.

"He calls himself Thor" Fury started, drawing Percy's attention, two months ago he appeared in the desert of New Mexico, not long after the appearance of the this," he reached over and pulled back several pages of the file until another picture emerged, this of a large war hammer, beautifully crafted and instantly recognizable. Percy's sharp intake of breath was enough for Fury to continue,

"As you can see, it's legit, at least as far as we know, he appeared, beat the crap out of several of our best agents before we could take him down and that was only because he didn't have his powers anymore. With them, he managed to take down a three story tall death machine and leveled a small town. He left almost immediately afterward but you can see why this is something we need to approach with serious caution."

Percy summed it up as eloquently as only he can,

"Crap"

"Yup" responded Fury curtly, "If this Loki guy turns out to be for real then I will bet my good eye that we'll be seeing him" he pointed at the picture of Thor, "Way too soon."

Percy only nodded, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

"My people are not going to take this well"

"No shit" Fury deadpanned, "Why the hell do you think I waited until now to tell you. How long can you put off a meeting?"

Percy thought about it briefly then met Fury's gaze,

"Long enough. This won't be an issue." The unsaid I hope dropped into the air like a lead weight, but Fury didn't seem to care. He merely nodded and motioned for Percy to follow him back onto the bridge. When they re-entered Percy caught sight of Steve and Coulson talking to one another, or rather Coulson was talking at Steve, and Steve was politely listening. Knowing what it was about Percy allowed the smirk to grow on his face, completely unbidden.

He caught part of the conversation as he approached,

"I mean, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, no. It's fine."

It's a vintage set. It took me a couple of years to collect them all. Near mint, slight foxing around the edges, but…"

Percy almost laughed but composed himself, instead he merely cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Steve, raising the file in his hand up a little,

"Cap" he said, using his official rank in order to show that this was not a social call, "I want to go over some mission details with you before we get going." Steve looked relieved and nodded enthusiastically and the pair took off quickly to the other side of the room,

"Thank you" Steve muttered under his breath "I respect the man and everything but…" Percy laughed good naturedly, "It's fine Steve, it's nice to see him like this, it's something of a rarity to see the person instead of the agent, it's good-" whatever Percy was about to say was cut off as an Agent, a bald tan-skinned man in a sharp suit, at one of the monitors in the corner suddenly shouted,

"We got a hit. Sixty-seven percent match. Weight, cross match, seventy-nine percent."

"Location?" demanded Coulson as he flew to the man's side,

"Stuttgart, Germany. 28, Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding." Fury turned to Percy and Steve,

"Jackson, Captain, you're up." They nodded, and bolted out of the room.

BREAK

Percy tried, and failed, for not the first time to smother the laugh bubbling up as he caught sight of Cap, the man looked ridiculous,

"What?" he asked, sounding rather annoyed as the jet rocked slightly from a sudden pocket of turbulence,

"Nothing" said Percy quickly but Steve's eyebrow quirked upward and he folded his arms across his chest,

"You've been giggling to yourself ever since we left, go on and just say it. Get it out of your system."

"You look like a crappy kid's action figure" he blurted before he could stop himself, and the plan dipped suddenly and the pair looked forward to see Natasha's shoulders shaking slightly with poorly concealed laughter.

"Sorry," she said over her shoulder, "Had to dodge some migrating geese."

Percy snorted and Steve just shook his head and sighed,

"I liked my old uniform better, but Coulson was so excited about it," he sighed again "It is what it is." Before Percy could retort however Natasha spoke again, this time all business,

"We're coming up on the LZ, there's too many civilians for me to touch down so you're going to have to jump." Percy smiled, that was fine by him. As one, he and Steve unstrapped their harnesses and walked toward the exit ramp. As they approached a blinking red light came on. Percy smacked a switch on the nearest bulkhead and the rear ramp began to descend, and the lights of the city shown brightly below. They each grabbed hold of a handrail on either side of the jet as it began turn. Just as the jet was finishing its turn the blinking red light suddenly changed to bright green and the pair dove out the jet.

They were launched out of the jet, some forty feet in the air before coming down in a crowd of people, Steve landing directly in front of an elderly gentleman just as bright blast from a scepter in the hands of what had to be Loki, shot out. The blast deflected off of his shield and reflect right back into Loki, collapsing him in a heap. He stood up from behind his shield and addressed the would-be god,

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing." Loki managed to gather himself and rose to his feet. Looking speculatively at the Captain,

"The soldier." He mocked "A man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time." Taking that as his cue Percy called the water in his pack and willed two large tendrils to appear, by now the crowd of scared civilians had disappeared and he didn't have to worry about them getting in the way. At the same time Natasha brought the Quinjet down behind them and rolled up the large mounted chain gun on the jet's nose.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down."

Quick as snake, Loki fires a bolt of blue energy that Natasha barely manages to evade, taking the initiative the Captain launches his shield which bounces off Loki's chest, momentarily stunning him. Percy, seizing the opportunity, lashes out with his tendrils, slamming them powerfully into the man's side, but it was an illusion. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Percy ducks, just as the scepter stabs into the air where his chest just was.

Percy kicked out, taking advantage of Loki's vulnerable position, and caught him in the shin, dropping him to one knee, as this was happening Percy felt a hand on his back and felt, rather than saw, the Captain use his back as a spring board to launch a vicious kick into Loki's midsection. Loki toppled, falling to the ground but Percy didn't give him a moment to breath, instead, he pounced, throwing a heavy haymaker to where Loki's head was just a moment before. His fist met concrete instead, and he felt the ground crack and crumble under the weight of his punch.

From his vulnerable position he felt the butt end of the scepter on the back of his head,

"Kneel" hissed Loki, Only to be kicked away a moment later by the Captain who responded,

"Not today."

The two squared up with one another as Loki righted himself again. They heard as the Quinjet pulled back around and situated itself directly above and behind them, However the moment was quickly interrupted as the loudspeakers from the Quinjet roared into the life, and AC/DC's Shoot to Thrill began blaring through the night. Percy, Cap, and Loki all turned and looked up as a form streaked through the night sky, before a ray slammed into Loki throwing him to the ground for the umpteenth time that evening an the object landed with a heavy thud next to the pair.

Iron Man stood up, his left hand glowing with the shot of a repulse ray, ready to fire and the right locked and ready to unload with a myriad of ballistic weaponry.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games." Stark's voice came through his suits speakers.

Slowly and from his position on the ground, Loki raised his hands over his head and his armor, scepter, and headwear all disappeared. Seemingly dissolving into nothing.

"Good move." Said Iron Man, lowering his own weapons.

"Mr. Stark" Said the Captain, acknowledging the new presence,

"Captain" he said back before looking at the third party and doing a double take, his visor sliding up with a metal clang, his face a look of pure incredulity,

"Agent High School?" he said disbelieving,

Percy waved nonchalantly in response, "Bout time you showed up." He let his easiest grin on his face,

"Thought you were gonna leave me to do all the work again."

 _AN: SUP! Yo, sorry I'm back but up until recently I had hit a rather serious wall and was struggling to do much of anything. Add that into work tiring me out and my birthday, Fourth of July and a family reunion I haven't had much time to breathe let alone write. Anyhoo, You didn't come here for excuses, what do ya'll think? We're finally here! I'm super pumped and can't wait to show you guys what I have planned coming up; we're just getting started here people! Let me know what you think. Love ya! And have an awesome day!_


	11. Grudge Match

Percy unconsciously clenched his fists as another bolt of bright blue lightning flashed across the darkened skyline. He sucked in a deep breath, and counted down from ten until he reached zero, releasing his breath when he did so. He then spent a moment reminding himself that he was fine here, that he was out of the jurisdiction of certain individuals and that certain parties wouldn't dare try something.

After his moment of rationality, he stepped back from the viewport and strode in to the cockpit as Natasha finished up a call from Fury,

"Said anything?" Fury's disembodied voice asked over the commlink,

"Not a word." Replied Natasha solemnly.

"Just get him here. We're low on time." Fury's voice was clipped, a hard edge to it. He stressed and worried, things must have been worse than they had originally realized if the director's emotions were so easily recognized, even over comms. Percy and Natasha shared a look, clearly she was thinking the same as he, but neither said anything. As she turned he attention back to the control panel in front of her Percy strode back into the crew hold in the rear, and approached Stark and Steve as they were sharing a hushed discussion. He didn't miss the unparalleled attention being paid to him by Loki though, he mentally filed it in the back of his mind under "crap he was not in the mood to deal with right now."

"I don't like it." Steve was saying,

"What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?" snarked Stark, though Percy could tell he was as keyed up and wary of the situation as the rest of them were.

"I don't remember it being ever that, easy. This guy packs a wallop."

Stark gave Steve a meaningful look up and down, like someone at auction appraising a rather old and antiquated pickup truck.

"Still, you are pretty spry, for an older fellow. What's your thing? Pilates?"

"What?" asked Steve, both completely confused and more than a little thrown off balance by the sudden shift in conversation from Loki to himself. Percy repressed a laugh,

"It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle." Percy decided this was as good a time to step in as any, as Steve was looking ready wallop Stark. They had enough to worry about without in-fighting amongst whatever this little squad was becoming.

"Alright boys," he said, putting a hand on both of their shoulders and smiling, "lets put 'em away for the moment. There will be plenty of time for a measuring contest as soon as we get Chuckles the Reindeer Reject back to the carrier."

"I didn't realize Fury signed you up for the cub scout troop too kid" Stark said, raising an eyebrow,

"And Fury didn't tell us that he was calling you in" replied Steve defensively.

Percy almost groaned as Stark turned his attention back to Steve and shot, "There's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you."

However, before Steve could respond, another flash of lightning, this one accompanied by a boom of thunder so loud and powerful that the entire jet shook. It shook violently enough for Percy to stumble slightly and he had to throw an arm out to stabilize himself on the rear bulkhead.

From the cockpit the three could hear Natasha's annoyed voice ask, "Where is this coming from."

Percy felt his stomach start to sink as the hair on the back of his neck began to stand up, and the all too familiar tingle began to sweep through him. Something was coming. His fear's only grew when he turned his attention to their prisoner, who was staring out the window a mix of abject horror and desperation painted onto his expression.

"What's the matter" Steve mocked, and had the situation been different Percy would have been downright proud of the man, "Scared of a little lightning?"

Loki didn't respond for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the raging storm outside, but when he did speak, he addressed Percy directly, ignoring the others and focusing his attention solely on the Percy. "I'm not overly fond of what follows."

"Oh crap baskets…." Percy muttered as the suspicions and fears that had been crawling through him were given new, terrifying life. And from the look on Loki's face, the man knew that Percy had figured it out, and looked, almost smug. There was something, dancing in the man's eyes, it there only for a moment, but it had been there. The look of a predator, one who was about to make its move.

Before Percy could even begin to process this new revelation, however, the jet shook again and heavy THUNK resonated from the ceiling at the same time as a blinding flash of light slammed into the jet. The resulting crash staggered the occupants once more, and before any of them could react, the ramp at the back of the jet burst open and a hulking brute of a man, long ragged blonde hair and rich, striking armor and a red cap, a large war hammer clasped in his right hand, strode into the jet. He grabbed Loki by the throat and hoisted him out the chair effortlessly, pausing only just long enough to send an irritated albeit intrigued look Percy's way, before spinning the war hammer from it's strap and flying out the hole he had just created.

As Stark and Steve stood staring, mouths slightly agape, attempting to process what they had just witnessed, Percy was already moving. Strapping his camelback on to his breastplate and barking orders to Natasha,

"Nat, bring us around now!"

"Another Asgardian or one of yours" she shouted back, but was already banking the jet to bring them around on a pass that would bring them right over where Thor had snatched Loki.

"Asgardian" He shouted back as he finished fastening the last of the buckles on his suit.

"Think this guy's a friendly?" Cap asked, or rather he shouted on account of the roar of the wind that now filled the jet.

"Doesn't matter" said Stark his headpiece sliding into place as he stalked toward the ramp, "If he frees Loki or kills him then the Tesseract is lost."

"Stark, we need a plan of attack!" shouted Cap

Stark, now standing at the mouth of the ramp, looked over his shoulder, "I have a plan. Attack." And with that, his propulsions on the bottom of his boots shot to life, and he rocketed away from the jet.

However, what neither man had noticed, was that Percy had already jumped clear of the jet, and was already plummeting to the earth below. He was still mid free-fall as he watched Stark slam into Thor, effectively engaging him. Focusing his attention back toward the rapidly approaching ground he focused his will on the area immediately around him, forming a small protective layer of water around him. Just as he slammed into the ground he exploded the protective layer and allowed it to absorb the impact of the fall. The result was a large, wet crater in the middle of the forest.

Standing up, he watched as Thor and Stark slammed into the ground a meters beyond the small clearing Percy had landed. He took off at a run, jumping and ducking to avoid fallen branches and sticks. He runs into the small clearing to see Thor standing over Stark, arm and hammer raised.

Percy acted quickly, forming a large spear-like object in his hand, he hurled it with all his might right at the would-be god. The water-spear smashed into the side of Thor, sending him sprawling.

"That's enough of that I think." He said, speaking loudly and clearly. Striding out so both of them could get a clear look at him. "Let's all just take a step back and think calmly and rational-" he was cut off as something immensely hard and heavy crashed into his sternum. He soared through the air crashing through a pair of large thick pines before a third abruptly stopped him. He felt something crack at the initial impact, and two more something's, as he crashed through the trees. Wincing as he tried to gather his bearings he realized that he had likely cracked several of his ribs.

He felt the weight disappear off of his chest and watched as the hammer flew away, into the waiting hand of Thor, who now looked murderous.

"You!" he thundered at Percy, the sky crackling and raging, "Who and what are you!" he frowned, looking an intriguing combination of both extremely furious and curious. "You are familiar to me and yet I know that I have never met you before. So little man, I ask again, who and what are you!"

Percy stood up, determined not to let himself appear shaky in spite of the tremendous pain, he could already feel himself healing anyway, and he didn't address Thor immediately. He felt something running down the corner of his mouth and wiped at it, pulling his hand away he found a smear of blood. He sighed, and spat another large gob out onto the ground before finally looking Thor in the eye.

"Name's Percy Jackson" he said, "And you're really going to regret that" At the reveal of Percy's name Thor froze, seemingly stunned. This hesitation cost him as Percy pounced, and was on him unleashing a flurry of powerful punches and kicks. Only a handful of them managed to connect; even stunned and surprised Thor was clearly an experienced and formidable close quarters fighter, unsurprising given that his weapon of choice was a war hammer.

Ducking under a viscous hammer swing he channeled his will into his right hand, creating a water-like glove with pointed protrusions on each knuckle. It was as if a boxing glove had mated with a pair of brass knuckles, and this was the result of their union. He slammed his new into the gods chest, doubling him over, his eyes widened in surprise at the sheer ferocity and strength behind the blow. Percy didn't let up however, and with his left hand he constructed a hardened spear of water, shaped similarly to a baton, and brought it down with a tremendous crash on the gods neck.

Thor spluttered in surprise and pain, before lashing out and grasping onto the front of Percy's armor, and hefted Percy over his head. Before Percy could react he found himself being slammed viscously to the earth. His eyes were swimming but he could just make out the form of Thor standing over him, arm and hammer raised. But before he could lower it, a familiar shield slammed into his lower jaw staggering him. Percy looked over, still on his back, and saw that the Captain had finally joined the fray. He was in the middle of reattaching his shield to his arm as he spoke.

"That's enough." He said, not quite shouting, "Now, I don't know what you plan on doing here"

"I've come to put an end to Loki's schemes!" Thor interrupted aggressively.

"Then prove it! Put the hammer down!" Stark and Percy shared a look,

"Um yeah, no! Bad call! He loves his hammer!" but it was too late, Thor's face had already contorted into a vicious snarl,

"You want me to put the hammer down?!"

The Captain seemed to have a very good idea of what was about to happen because he lifted his shield and covered himself as Thor smashed down on the metal disk, his hammer sparking with electricity. The gong-like ring that erupted from the clash, along with the subsequent shockwave, sent all parties sprawling in a number of directions. After a moment, when their ears had stopped ringing and they could get something of a grip on the situation, the Captain said, his voice panting,

"Are we done here?"

BREAK

They didn't have to wait long for a pick up, but the wait was mostly silent. That didn't stop Steve from noticing the way in which both the supposed gods were looking at Percy. He was able to maintain his curiosity long enough for them to get situated back on the Jet, and their prisoner situated before he asked, he was absently thankful that stark had decided to fly on ahead and meet them at the carrier, he didn't want to have to deal with that particular brand of crazy at the moment. He sat down directly across from Percy, and folded his arms over his chest and looked between the three. Pointing between Percy and Thor he said,

"There's a lot of animosity there for two people who have never met, care to explain." And then, something even stranger happened, Percy and Thor shared a look of knowing understanding, and seemed to hold a silent conversation with one another. Neither one breaking eye contact. After a full minute of utter silence Percy finally sighed and leaned back against the bulkhead, running a hand through his hair and suddenly looking far older and more tired than a man his age had any right to.

"Fine" he said finally, "But if I catch any heat for this I'm blaming you" he said to Thor, who actually smiled. A large, full mouthed smile showing off his many large white teeth

"I would expect nothing less Perseus." He said with a laugh. Loki remained looking pensive but was clearly interested in the conversation. Percy turned back to Steve, leaning forward so his hands were on his kneepads and his hands were interlocked.

"Remember, back on the carrier, I said I needed to talk to you about something, but were interrupted by slick here?"

Steve nodded

"Well it has to do with why Thor and I, for lack of a better term, know of each other." He paused and seemed to be thinking through his next choice of words very carefully, "You see, the Norse Pantheon isn't exactly the only group of deity like beings out there." He sat back, arms still folded, "We know for a fact the Egyptians are still around, the Romans are…kind of….but that's complicated, hell we've even had reason to believe that some of the old Persian gods are out there somewhere, still kicking." Both Thor and Loki looked surprised by this sudden revelation but neither made to comment. "Finally there are the Greeks, that's where I come in."

Steve had a sudden sinking suspicion in the pit of his stomach that he very much hoped was wrong,

"You're not about to tell me you're a god are you?" he asked, incredulous. He had hoped for a laugh, or a joke, or something to put him that he was wrong, but Percy merely smiled, a very sad, very tired smile.

"Well, that would only be half right. My mom's mortal, you know, a normal human, but my dad is a god. Given my proficiency with water, I'm sure you can figure out which one." Percy paused and gave Steve a moment to try and collect himself and think on what was just revealed.

After a second Steve asked, incredulous, "You know how utterly ridiculous all of this sounds right?" Percy nodded and leaned back closing his eyes,

"If it helps, the Judeo-Christian god is probably real too, in my experience there's truth to every religion in some aspect so if you're having a crisis of faith or… whatever…you know…don't."

Steve shook his head, as if trying to shake off the information like a spider stuck in his hair.

"That still doesn't, really, explain the animosity between the two of you" he said, pointing between Thor and Percy, to which they both nodded. Thor spoke before Percy had the chance to.

"It is less about personal hatred than it is about ancient quarrels and prejudices. The Pantheons are meant to mingle with one another, there is simply too much power in one place." Percy looked like he had a comment to make about that, but clearly thought better of whatever he was thinking and stayed silent. "When two peoples of our…standing for lack of a better word clash" Thor continued, "There is almost always a fight to be had. I actually hold young Perseus here in very regard." He said with a large smile, one Percy was glad to return.

"The feeling is mutual Your Grace."

Loki made a sound that was a mix of a snort of derision and a laugh of contempt but made no additional comment. Percy looked like he'd been struck by an impulsive idea, one that Steve had seen on Bucky's face all too many times to fail to recognize, stood up and stuck his hand out to the blonde god.

"Chalk it up to adrenaline and poor communication Your Grace?" he asked, his goofy grin back on his face, looking infinitely more alive than he had only a few minutes ago. The revelation that Thor had bade him no personal ill will and was merely trying to do what he had thought was right clearly struck a chord with the man.

Thor's grin threatened to split his face in two as he practically leapt from his seat to clasp forearms with Percy, a gleam in his eye,

"Only if you stop referring to me with useless honorifics Perseus." If at all possible, Percy's grin only grew.

"Please Thor, call me Percy."

BREAK

The mood on board the Helicarrier was bleak as the monitor above the small conference table went black. Percy, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and Thor had just finished listening in to the conversation between Fury and Loki. Thor was standing off on his own by one of the viewports, seemingly lost in thought.

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Banner asked, sarcastically. Steve ignored him,

"Loki's gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?" Steve's question seemed to shake Thor out of whatever trance he had been in. As he turned back to the room at large he looked tired, haggard.

"He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not of Asgard or any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract." Steve looked incredulous,

"An army? From outer space?" Banner responded, more to himself than anyone else,

"So he's building another portal. That's what he needs Erik Selvig for." That seemed to wake Thor up as he turned to Banner questioningly,

"Selvig?"

"He's an astrophysicist." Replied Banner,

"He's a friend." Percy started at the almost possessiveness in Thor's voice, it seemed that the man, for Percy refused to call whatever he was a god, was fiercely loyal and protective of his friends. He hid a small smile, he could respect that.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell" said Natasha for the first time, sharing a look with Percy "along with one of ours." Steve then turned and addressed Percy,

"You've been real quiet ever since we got here. What's on your mind. Percy didn't say anything for a moment, staring out the nearest viewport into the dark black sky and wondered, not for the first time, what Carol was up to. He then shook it off and spoke,

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He's powerful, and he put up almost no fight. He wants to be here and I don't know why. He's not leading an army from here." Banner brushed off the concern,

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats, you could smell crazy on him." Thor rounded on him, anger radiating off him,

"Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother"

"He killed eighty people in two days." Natasha deadpanned. Thor had the sense to look sheepish as he turned away, and offered weakly,

"He's adopted." Banner carried on valiantly,

"Iridium, what did they need the Iridium for?"

"It's a stabilizing agent." Came Stark's voice as he walked on to the deck with Coulson. He said something to Coulson, finishing up a conversation they'd clearly been having before walking into the room. Coulson rolled his eyes at whatever Stark said and walked away. Stark swaggered on,

"Means the portal won't collapse on itself, like it did at SHIELD." He walked past Thor, smacking him on the arm as he did so, "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing." He stopped in front of the control panel where Fury directed the Helicarrier, "Also, it means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants."

He turned and began playing around with knobs at the panel, "Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails."

Percy couldn't help but feel mildly offended, "That's not how that works genius" he snarked but Stark ignored him in favor of pointing an accusatory finger at an agent in the corner.

"That man is playing GALAGA! Thought we wouldn't notice. But we did." Said agent shrinked a little in his seat but wasn't swayed. Stark covered one eye and continued analyzing the controls, "How does Fury do this?" who asked Hill who looked as thoroughly unamused as Percy had ever seen her.

"He turns" she said dryly

"Well, that sounds exhausting." Stark muttered, "The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick start the cube." He punctuated the end of his statement with a snap of his fingers.

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" glared Hill, visibly ruffled by Starks presence on her bridge.

"Last night. The packet, Selvig's notes, the Extraction Theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

"Congrats Stark, you did the one thing asked of you. You want a cookie?" asked Percy. Natasha smirked and Hill's lips quivered a little. Stark rounded him,

"And what exatly are you doing here kindergarten cop? Don't you have a kitten to save from a tree or an old lady to walk across the street."

"Nah" said Percy, pointing across the table at Steve, "That's more his thing." Steve looked mildly miffed at the joke but Percy smiled good-naturally at him, "I'm more of a babysit man-children can't control their own toys kind of guy." Stark smirked but his rebuttal was cut off by Steve who seemed determined to stay on task,

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?"

"He's got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier" was Banner's reply,

"Unless, Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect." Said Stark, turning with renewed interest and mischievous glint in his eye,

"Well, if he could do that he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet." Said Banner thoughtfully, Stark clapped his hands together, delighted.

"Finally, someone who speaks English." Steve raised an eyebrow and said to Percy,

"Is that what just happened" he asked, looking thoroughly overwhelmed. Percy just laughed quietly and said,

"Don't worry, I didn't understand any of it either."

"It's cause your heads too thick for anything remotely intelligent to crack through it" said Stark as he approached Banner, hand outstretched and said, while ignoring Percy's indignant outcry,

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner. You're work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster." Banner looked like he had absolutely no response to that and simply shook the mans hand with slightly perturbed,

"Thanks…" in response.

"Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him." Announced Fury as he strode into the room.

"Let's start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon." Said Steve, looking relieved to finally have something to contribute again.

Fury eyed him briefly and shrugged it off,

" I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

"Monkeys?" questioned Thor, bewilderment written on his face, "I don't understand"

"I do" Shouted Steve a little to enthusiastically, and then, he straightened back up and said a little more quietly, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, "I understood that reference" Stark rolled his eyes and Percy let out a sharp bark of laughter,

Stark ignored him and asked Banner,

"Shall we play, Doctor"

Banner gestured out the room and nodded,

"Let's play some"

As they left Percy shared a look with Natasha and grinned broadly,

"I think I'm starting to like this gig."

Before he could say anything else however, his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed face first onto the table as his vision was obscured by a bright white light, one he was all too familiar with.

Steve jumped as Percy suddenly collapsed, face first onto the table with a resounding thud. He hopped to his feet and pushed Percy into an upright position, he was beginning to feel for a pulse when he felt a hand on his arm. Looking he over, he Natasha was staring at, amused. Looking around, he noticed that he was the only one seemingly concerned about Percy's sudden collapse.

"I'm under the impression that this isn't something to worry about then?" he asked hesitantly. Natasha smirked and sat back down in her chair. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hill walk swiftly out of the room. He scanned the room again, Fury wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to his downed agent, instead, his focus was on a monitor at the helm. Even Thor looked oddly at ease with the situation. He took the cue and gently sat back in his seat and addressed Natasha,

"You want to explain what's going on here?" he asked, pointedly. Surprisingly, it was Thor who answered,

"I believe", he started, his voice a low rumble, "That Perseus is speaking with his…family…about my brother and myself. No doubt our arrival in Midgard would be a cause of concern for them."

Over at the helm, Fury snorted. They ignored him.

Natasha nodded approvingly, "Big guy's right, he does this from time to time when he's reporting on us." She frowned "He's normally not out of it for this long though. They must e arguing."

Steve, was struck by something she said,

"Did you say he's reporting on us? On SHIELD?"

Natasha nodded, "It's part of our arrangement, we take care of problems on their end of things and we have to keep them appraised of situations that directly affect them and their little world."

"Sounds like a pretty one-sided deal" Said Steve, "What do we get out of this?"

"Besides Percy?" smirked Natasha, Steve rolled his eyes but nodded all the same, "We get to continue to exist and they stay the hell out of our way. For a long time we had to rely on people like Percy to take care of these more…unique problems. But Percy made some kind of deal with the gods that gives us jurisdiction and keeps his family and friends potentially out of the line of fire."

"There's a lot of what you just said there, that doesn't make any sense." Steve pointed out.

Natasha shrugged, "You're right, but that's Percy's story to tell, not mine, if he wants you to know, you'll know. He doesn't like hiding things from his friends." As se said this, Hill walked back on to the bridge, a tall glass of water in her hand. Handing it Natasha, she said,

"He still not out of it? That's not a good sign." Natasha frowned and nodded,

"You keep saying that" Steve said, "What do you mean, its only been a minute or so." Thor answered again,

"Time moves differently in the realm of the gods, I am unsure how different Olympus is from Asgard but I can assume time moves faster there than it does here."

All of this was beginning to be too much for the man out of time. And he threw his hands up in exasperation and defeat. "I give up, this is just a little too-" He was cut off as a roar of thunder sounded and Percy's limp body was hurled out of his chair and across the room, colliding harshly with the rear bulkhead, sparks of electricity jolted off of his body sporadically as he twitched for a moment before groaning. Before Steve could process it all, Natasha and Hill were already lifting him up and placing him in the nearest chair. Deciding to be useful, he grabbed the glass of water and gently placed it in Percy's hand.

Percy looked up, his eyes clouded and tired and nodded his thanks before throwing his head back and downing the glass in a few short gulps. Steve assumed that the water must have acted like a healing agent for the man, which made some sense he supposed given his other powers. That and being healed by drinking water was by far the least obstructive observation he had made that night.

Fury, who had pulled himself away from the monitor at the sound of the thunder strode over,

"How bad?" he asked simply,

"Oh they're pissed."

"Will they do anything"

"Not if they want another war they won't. It took me a while but I managed to convince them that trying to forcefully remove the Asgardians from Earth would go about as well as if the Asgardians tried the same or us." He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair, "They also wanted to Loki brought to Olympus but I managed to talk them out of it. I had to call in almost every favor I had, but I got us time to deal with the situation." He turned and addressed Thor now; "They want you off planet, as soon as possible. They don't like having you back here, they don't like being reminded that they're not the only special snowflakes around here."

Thor chuckled, rumbled really, and grinned broadly, "I believe we will be good friends Perseus." He said, then, suddenly serious, "I assume you also told them that I would not be leaving this realm until the threat to Midgard has been resolved?"

Percy nodded, "Of course, it took some convincing but like I said, I called in some favors and not all of them have their heads in the sand. I convinced the people that mattered and that was good enough to buy us some time to resolve the problem before they got involved personally."

Fury was suddenly livid, "I was under the impression that they could not mettle in 'mortal' affairs?" he said acidly. Percy nodded, but then looked pointedly at Thor,

"That normally true, but Blitzen and Thunder Thighs here fall under the category of things they can and most certainly will get themselves involved in. Apparently there was a damn near revolt after the grudge match in New Mexico, but Thor here left quickly enough that they decided to wait and see what happened. Now that he's back and with his brother, they want to take action. We've got three days to take care of this other worldly problem before they decide to do something themselves."

Percy slumped in his chair, "I really freaking hate politics."

 _AN: Yo, sorry for the long wait on this one, but I certainly hope that ya'll enjoyed it, I had a lot of fun putting this one together. Not much to say other than that, but thanks for all the love and support ya'll have been giving me, it means a lot! Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter and let me know what you think!_

 _-LilDB_


	12. I'm Free, Free Fallin'

It was the shaking that eventually woke him. Or rather, it his the impact from hitting the nearest bulkhead as a result of the shaking that woke him. He felt his eyes jolt open before abruptly closing again as a wave of pain and nausea rolled over him. He steadied his breathing and counted backward from ten. When he was finished he slowly opened his eyes again and was able to assess the situation. The lights were off but there was flashing red glow illuminating the hall he was in, courtesy of the warning siren at opposite end of the hall.

He rolled over, having landed from his impact with the wall on his stomach, and slowly backed himself back up against the bulkhead as he tried to dull the ache in his head long enough to remember what the hell was happening. He started with the basics, he was the Helicarrier, the tri-whatever the hell. They had brought someone on board, Luffy? No that wasn't right, Lucky was wrong too. Loki! They had brought on the Norse trickster on board after a scuffle with Stark and Thor! Ok but what had happened after that? He remembered a throne room. Right, he had briefed the gods on what was happening and…well pissed would severely understated how they felt about Norse interference.

He raised a hand to his head and grimaced. He didn't look as he pulled it away; he knew it was sticky with his own blood. That was good. He was severely concussed. He Screwed his eyes shut again and concentrated, he needed to remember. He and Steve had been walking toward the labs; Banner and Stark were messing around with Loki's scepter while Natasha interrogated Loki. There had been…an argument? He wasn't sure but he remembered Stark and Steve had argued about something and then Steve stormed off. Something about weapons? And the Tesseract? That's right, Stark had hacked the SHIELD database and found out that SHIELD was using the Tesseract to make weaponry. Steve had gone off to try and prove him wrong and what? Percy tried to remember. He was pretty sure that he followed Steve.

He gulped down another breath and flexed his right arm and groaned. Broken, badly too. He thought he could feel pieces of bone moving around freely. He stopped and concentrated again. He remembered now, he had followed Steve and they got into an armory filled with Tesseract tech. The exact same stuff, according to Steve, that Hydra had used against him during the War. Steve had been incensed, had yelled at Percy, and accused him of betraying his trust. Percy frowned, he hadn't known about the weapons but Steve didn't hear any of it, and stormed out of the army back towards the lab. Percy remembered chasing after him. They had walked in as Stark was confronting Fury. Steve and Fury had argued, and then Stark and Steve, and then Banner…Gods above Banner had tried to kill himself.

Percy felt another moan pass out of his mouth as a fresh wave of pain and nausea rolled through. He did his best to ignore it and remember. Banner had been talking about…something, honestly Percy couldn't remember clearly, he had been too focused on Banner had been unconsciously doing. As he had been talking the man had grabbed the scepter, Loki's scepter, from the examination table and had been holding it. That had been when he had realized Loki's plan, Percy remembered. That had been when he had realized why Loki had allowed himself to be captured to easily, he had been trying to control the Hulk to destroy them from the inside. He remembered seeing Natasha, Fury, and himself all slip the cover off the holsters nearly simultaneously. Just as Steve had told Banner about the scepter though something happened.

Then it all came back in vivid clarity and his eyes shot back open. There had been an explosion, one of the turbines had been blown to pieces and they had been thrown off their feet. There had been a secondary explosion and he, Natasha, and Banner had been knocked off their feet. They had been slowly recovering when-

An animalistic roar cut off his thoughts. He looked down the hall and staggered to his feet and began half running, half stumbling down the hallway. Banner had been transformed by the attack. Percy had tried to hold him off long enough for Natasha to escape but they had been in the bowels of the ship and he had been unable to avoid the monstrosity. Percy looked down at his useless right arm and grimaced, it had not been pretty. The Hulk had pulverized him before pile driving him two levels down the ships interior. Percy scowled. Dick move Banner, dick move.

He turned left, then right, then right again and up two flights of stairs. Despite not knowing the interior of the ship his body instinctively knew where it was going. As he moved he fished in his pocket and pulled out a small golden square. He grimaced as he looked at it, it wouldn't heal the damage to his arm but it would keep him active enough to at least help put up a fight against the Hulk when the time came. He shoved it in his mouth as he jumped up the last four steps and took the next hallway to his right at a dead sprint. The effects of the ambrosia immediately revitalizing his exhausted and aching muscles.

He turned right and burst into the subsequent hallway and into a flood of panicked crewmembers. They were in a flurry, all trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and what Percy saw was the main hanger. He only paused briefly before another roar pushed him out of his momentary daze and he closed the distance. As he ran into the hanger he slammed his hand on the automatic security lock, which shut off the Hanger to anyone outside. Or in this case inside. It was a good thing SHIELD built all of their equipment in the exact same way, Percy briefly thought as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

Thor, missing his hammer, was attempting to grapple with the large green monstrosity that was the Hulk. Percy had seen the footage, had watched the grudge match in Harlem between the Hulk and that…whatever the hell it was. He thought he would have been prepared for the real thing, especially given everything else he had seen and experienced in his life. He could honestly say though that only a handful of encounters over the years matched up with the sheer animalistic fury and power that emanated from the being in front of him. Percy looked down at his still shattered arm and swallowed hard. This was going to hurt. A lot.

He charged forward, shouting "Thor! Down!" as he did so. Thor must have been acting on instinct alone as he immediately dropped his grapple and rolled away from the beast. Just as Thor's form disappeared Percy's took his place, a viscous kick to the beast's midsection. With a grunt the Hulk flew through the air only to be immediately smacked out of it courtesy of Thor, who put Hulk down with a haymaker, delivered right to the side of the head. Percy followed up, knowing that the only thing he could was try and buy time. What he was trying to buy time for he didn't know but what he did know, was that there was no way that even with the help of a god, could he beat this monstrosity as he was. He attempted to throw a heavy punch with his left arm but the Hulk stopped him. Painfully. Before Percy could even blink a green hand shot up and smacked Percy across the hanger. He stopped when he crashed painfully into the wing of a jet. He heard more than felt the crack in his back from the impact.

The Hulk didn't give him too much time to recover as he attempted to pounce on Percy, only to be intercepted by a hammer crashing into him. A moment later Hulk was out of his visual line of sight and Thor was next to Percy helping him to his feet.

"We do not have much time before the beast realizes he cannot use Mjolnir." Said Thor quickly "The man, Banner, he is no longer there. We need a plan." Percy nodded quickly,

"We need him off the ship before he breaks it" a new wave of sirens echoed off the walls "more than it already is anyway." Thor hummed in agreement and Percy turned, the hanger doors leading to the loading ramp to the main runway was still open. The ships circuitry must have been more screwed up by the attack than Percy had realized. The doors should have closed when Percy locked down the hanger. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth though and turned back to Thor.

"I've got an idea. Help me draw him over to the doorways. Once there we can get him off the ship." Thor nodded again and jumped. Percy followed, hot on his heels. Thor ducked as Hulk swung his arm in attempt to clothesline him. Thor slid passed the swinging arm and grabbed Mjolnir before leveling it into the Hulk's stomach. He launched right at Percy who caught hold of his leg with his arm and swung as hard as he could. With tremendous effort Percy was able to throw the Hulk across the hanger. The Hulk stood up and roared in anger but Percy and Thor were on top of him. Before they could do anything however, the ship suddenly pitched hard and all three lost their balance.

Thor was thrown from his feet and onto several crates but Percy and the Hulk were thrown towards the Hanger doors. The bucking of the ship caused the previously open doors to roll off of their hinges and slide closed just as the Hulk was about to pass through. The Hulk grabbed onto the doors sliding shut and the side of the bulkhead in an attempt to steady himself and keep himself from falling.

Now, over the years Percy had been called many things. But near the top of that list was impulsive. Especially in the heat of battle, with the adrenaline flowing and his blood pumping in his ears, Percy was more prone to acting and reacting than he was to thinking anything through. Which is why, when asked later, what he was thinking when he did what he did, he would simply shrug and say

"It seemed like a good idea at the time"

That being said, he would also admit that trying to tackle the Hulk through the open door with nothing to catch himself on, was definitely in the top ten of his all-time dumb decisions

Especially since it didn't work.

He slammed into the chest of the beast with the force of a Mack truck, wrapping his arms around the Hulk's midsection. H attempted to twist his body and yank backwards, forcing both himself and the Hulk out of the carrier and into the daylight beyond. Unfortunately he had miscalculated the Hulks ability to adapt as well as maybe misjudging his own strengths. If only just a little. In contrast to his plans the Hulk managed to use Percy's own momentum against him and reverse their positions. He pushed off of Percy who, in a sudden fit of desperation threw his arms out to catch himself. It was to no avail because before either Percy or Thor could move quickly enough the Hulk reared back and punched Percy through the opening.

Percy choked back a scream as he heard, more than he felt, his back snap from the force of the punch. With his arms forced up on either side of him, and his attention on balancing himself, he had left himself completely open to the attack and virtually unable to protect, or ready himself.

The force of the punch sent him careening through the air, tumbling head over heels as he plummeted. Between the pain of having his back broken, as well as the gravitational forces pulling him back to earth. Percy quickly lost consciousness. He fell for nearly a minute; the carrier had been losing altitude quickly and was only roughly twenty thousand feet up when he was launched. He was, therefore, completely unaware of the sudden strong gust of winds that picked up seemingly out of nowhere. The winds were strong, but seemingly had a purpose, as Percy's path was altered drastically.

The winds pushed him nearly three miles off of his beginning trajectory. He had previously been on a course that would have turned him into little more than rather ugly red smear, but the winds had positioned him, and were maintaining his position, over a small manmade lake. When he was roughly one hundred feet from impact the water in the lake literally rose up and caught him, not with the force that would have been expected from a fall of twenty thousand feet, but of a small child landing in a bed of pillows. Less than a second later, the lake swallowed Percy's form. The strong winds slowed to a gentle breeze, and the water, which had previously been whipping up in ferocious torrent, settled in a calm mirror once again.

On the bank of the lake, a tall woman, with hair as white as snow that was accentuated by her chocolate colored skin, lowered her arms to her side breathing heavily as her eyes lost their foggy cataracts. She turned to her companion, an stately looking gentleman. The sun shone off of his bald head, and the sleek and chrome wheels of his wheelchair. The man said nothing, instead closing his eyes and steeping his fingers together, seemingly in deep thought. The woman also said nothing, there was no need. They both knew what was happening now; all they could do was wait.

BREAK

Percy was not sure what he was expecting when he opened his eyes. He was certainly not expecting to wake up in a club, and it was most certainly a club. It was dark, hot, and the bar top he was perched at was shaking with the bass of whatever top forty hit was being played. Looking down, he taken aback to see that he was dressed in an immaculate sea green dress shirt, tucked into bright white slacks and black boots. He cautiously looked at his own hands, curious enough his back wasn't hurting and he had full use of his otherwise broken right arm. He narrowed his eyes and dug his nails into the palms of his hands until he drew blood. Or at least he would have, had a hand not reached out and yanked Percy out of his reverie.

He swiveled on his stool, his right arm drawn back, ready to level whomever, or whatever, was responsible for his situation. He stopped however, when he recognized the person standing opposite him and Percy nearly groaned. Of course he would make their point of contact a nightclub. The man in front of his was tall, roughly Percy's height, with sun-kissed blonde hair cut in the latest popular style. His bronzed skin was accentuated by a deep maroon button down, tucked into black slacks with the sleeves rolled to elbows and sitting under a black waist-coat. His eyes were covered in a pair of stylish sunglasses but Percy knew that behind them were orbs of bright blue. Most noticeable about the man though, was the sheer power emanating from him. As though the world could and would stop still at his choosing.

"Long time no speak cuzzo" Apollo smiled, his bright white teeth shining in the dark club. Despite the cacophony of sound around them, and the quiet way in which Apollo addressed him, Percy could still hear the god as clear as if there was no other noise in the room.

"What's going on here Apollo? Why am I here? More importantly, why am I not dead?"

Apollo just smiled, not even fazed by the way Percy brushed him off, "Not your time my man. Couldn't have you kicking the bucket before you were meant to, the Fates would have my beautiful ass in a sling if I let that happen."

Percy narrowed his eyes, "Is this about the warning the Fates gave me after me and Annabeth were shot?"

Apollo clapped his hands together happily "Got it one there kiddo! There's some serious shit heading our way and you and your new pals are just about the only things that can stop it."

"Wait." Percy said confused, "Is this about Loki?"

Percy could practically feel the eye roll "Who else would this be about! Listen kid, the trickster is planning on bringing an army to bear on the planet. That pretty blue cube is acts as a doorway between worlds. I'm not clear on all of the details here, even my spectacularly awesome self has limitations, but I know that they'll be here within the day."

Percy's eyes widened at that. He had been momentarily briefed on the Tesseract before coming onto the Helicarrier, the briefing had clearly failed to include the minute detail that the bright blue box was portal.

"Loki is bringing an alien army?"

"yu-huh"

"Like little green men?"

"Well they're not so little but they're certainly green"

"Aliens are real!"

"You're kinda missing the point here Percy.

"Right, right. Sorry, it's just…like seriously aliens?"

Of all the shit you've seen in your life you're honestly surprised that there is intelligent life outside of this pretty blue marble we call home?" asked Apollo, a perfectly sculpted brow raised. Percy had nothing to say to that so he stayed quiet. He thought for a moment, before he looked back at the god.

"You wouldn't have dragged my consciousness all the way here just to tell me something I would have figured out on my own anyway. What else is going on here Apollo?"

Apollo's grin threatened to split his face, "See, I knew you weren't as stupid as everyone says." Then all of a sudden the smile, and any trace of a friendly demeanor vanished. The background of the club melted away and Percy found himself standing on a floating rock formation. Looking down he saw he was back in his combat gear and that Apollo had also changed out of his club wear and into attire more suitable for battle. The gods eyes were fixed on something in front of them, Percy followed his gaze and nearly fell over. They were standing in front of an ornate throne, easily as large as the thrones the gods sat upon in the throne of Olympus.

But it wasn't the throne itself that was what shocked Percy; it was the being, for that was the only way Percy could begin to describe it, that was perched upon the throne. It was enormous, easily the size of a small building. Humanoid enough in features to be recognizable but clearly not something of Earth. Then there was the aura the being exuded. Percy felt as though he were sitting in the presence of Zeus at the height of his power. It was smothering and Percy nearly felt his knees buckle beneath him.

"It's name is Thanos," said Apollo quietly, drawing Percy out of his stupor. Percy looked at him quizzically but didn't say anything, letting the god continue. "I don't know who or what he is beyond that but I do know that he is the one pulling the strings here. He gave Loki the army that he's bringing to earth. What he wants, well I don't know that either." Percy could tell that the lack of understanding was frustrating the god.

Percy swallowed hard, his mouth dry, "Is he coming here?" Apollo shook his head, "No, at least not yet." He furrowed his brown in frustration, "I don't know if he's even coming at all but I keep seeing visions of him and I know that he's important. I also can't shake the feeling that he will be coming to earth, if not now then soon."

He then turned to Percy, "I'm not telling you all of this to try and scare or intimidate you or something if that's what your thinking. But the fact that I keep seeing this…thing means something. It's not a prophecy, at least not traditionally, but I wanted to show you this. I wanted you to know what was coming."

"Why?" Percy managed to rasp,

"Because I think both you and I know that whatever comes of this, you're going to be at the damn center of it. I wanted you to know that this was coming so you could be ready for when it does. You are Earth's mightiest hero Perseus, and the time will soon come where the choices you make will either save the planet, or doom it." That sounded entirely too familiar to be comforting,

"Same shit, different day." He muttered under his breath, the throne and Thanos melted from his vision and they were back at the nightclub once again.

"Like I said" started Apollo, the smile and easy going aura back, "Not here to scare you or anything, just make sure you know what's coming so you can get yourself and your little team there ready for it." He checked his watch and whistled, "Yikes you've been gone longer than I thought. Loki's army is nearly here. Look just worry about kicking him and his green scaly friend's asses off of our planet and then you can begin worrying about what's to come. Alright?"

Percy wanted to argue, wanted to ask why the hell Apollo told him any of this if he wasn't supposed to worry about it. What the hell was the point of any of this at all? But before he could voice his concerns Apollo said,

"Good luck Percy, it's time for you to wake up." And with a snap of his fingers, Percy did just that.

BREAK

Natasha closed the door to the bunk, making sure to lock it behind her. She strode over to the nearest bunk and slowly sat down. She slid her way backwards until she was propped up on the rear bulkhead with her legs dangling off of the bunk. She folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes and tilted her head back releasing a long, lengthy sigh. The day had simply gone from bad to worse. The Helicarrier was barely floating along, Loki and his scepter had gotten away, Barton was unconscious, Stark and Rogers were moping, Banner was missing, Thor was missing, and Coulson and Jackson…

She banged her head on the bulkhead in an effort to dispel those thought before they caught hold too quickly. It was to no avail though. The voice in her head, the cold dispassionate voice that generally ruled her everyday actions, told her to knock it off, that emotions like hope and despair were children and most certainly not for a professional such as herself. To hell with that for the moment. Within less than an hour she had gotten Barton back only to immediately lose Jackson, and unlike Barton, Jackson wasn't coming back.

Jackson and Barton were the only family she had, the only ones that she had ever allowed to get anywhere close to her. She smiled despite herself, well in the case of Jackson he had more or less barreled his way into her life and had refused to leave until she decided to just put up with him.

It hadn't taken long. Jackson just sort of had that effect on people.

Her stomach clenched painfully, his family would need to be notified. Which meant telling his mother. Natasha had no earthly idea how she would be able to tell Sally Jackson that her son was dead.

'or maybe he's not' whispered the traitorous part of her brain again. 'he's come out of worse scrapes before, anything could have happened while he fell.' And she honestly wished that the rest of her could believe that. She pulled her knees up to her chest and laid her head on top of them, clasping her hands behind her head.

She thought back to the video footage she had watched. The way his back had contorted as the Hulk hit would forever be etched into her memory. Not even Percy could have survived a fall from nearly twenty thousand feet with a broken back, and a broken arm. Especially when they were miles from any coherent body of water.

She began squeezing her hands together behind her head, and her shoulders began to shake slightly with barely suppressed rage. What the hell had that idiot been thinking! He should have known better than to try and go up against Banner as he was! Even with Thor's help on the matter he should have known that getting himself further involved would have further hurt him. And then that stupid idea to try and tackle Banner out of the goddamn carrier!

She was squeezing her hands together so tightly that they were beginning to crack slightly.

Jackson had always had a hero complex; the idiot was too damn self-sacrificing for his own good. It had gotten him trouble one time too many over the years and know he had gotten himself killed for it, and for what! Nothing. Percy Jackson had given himself up physically and mentally to save the world more times than anyone could lay claim to and what did he get out of it, nothing but another mission and another opportunity to kill himself.

She was rambling to herself now. She couldn't help it, she was just too angry. Angry at Jackson, angry at herself for not being there, angry at the god damned gods who put it him in the situation to begin with.

She looked up, inspiration suddenly striking her. The gods! That was it! She wasn't wholly familiar with Greco-Roman mythology but surely there had to be a precedent somewhere along the way of bartering for souls. Maybe the gods would be satisfied enough to take one soul for Jackson's. But whose would she even offer? Herself? She cared about the man sure but would she truly be willing to offer her life for his? Maybe in the heat of battle, where both of their lives were on the line or she had the opportunity to take a bullet for him. She knew herself well enough to know that she would undoubtedly throw herself in front of said bullet for Jackson, Barton, Fury, hell even Hill or Rogers. But there was something much more intimate about offering her life in sacrifice for Jackson's.

She sighed again and released her hands from around her head and let them rest on her knees. She couldn't say that she would do it, and that was maybe the most painful realization she'd had all day, including learning of Jackson's disappearance. It was painful precisely because she knew that had the situation been reversed, Jackson would gladly trade his life for hers, or literally anyone else's, no matter the circumstances and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash. That was just the kind of person that Jackson was. Self-sacrificing. It was something that no matter how much she could try, Natasha could never hope to be.

It had simply been beaten out of her. Her entire development as a child had centered on self and state-preservation. There was simply no room in her being for anyone else. It sickened her, made her stomach knot up uncomfortably in ways that she was entirely unused to.

Had she been able to, she likely would have been crying by now. She certainly felt like she needed to. But she had forgotten how to long ago. Christ, she felt like a child. She never allowed her emotions to get the best of her and now here she was, curled up questioning everything about herself, her life, everything. She didn't know what to do.

Unbidden, she could almost here Jackson's snarky voice in her ear. "Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Nat? The woman I know would have never gotten this broken up over little old me. She wouldn't be sitting here moping in a room, she'd out there, trying to rally the goddamn troops and getting ready to kick some Norse ass! If you want to keep on acting like schoolgirl though, have at it, I'm just saying the Natasha I know wouldn't be sitting here doing nothing when the fate of humanity was on the line. I'd be pretty damn disappointed in that Natasha, because both you and I know that she is better than that. That's she is stronger than that. Don't we?"

The voice didn't wait for a response

"Of course we know. Cause we know Nat, and we know that she's the second most kickass person on the planet, besides me of course."

Natasha didn't when she started standing or when she had begun moving to the door but she was suddenly vividly aware that her body had been moving, almost of its own accord.

"So, now that you're done with your little pity party, why don't you go find Clint, smack him upside the head. Grab the boys, and go save the goddamn world! Then you can mope around do whatever the hell you want."

The disembodied voice of Jackson was right; she would have time to grieve later, when the moment was right and when the stakes weren't so high. But right now, if she really wanted to honor the man she called a friend, she needed to get her people to rally, and they needed to begin coordinating.

She really should have been more concerned about the random voices she was hearing in her head, but at the given moment, she honestly could not bring herself to care enough. She allowed a smirk to dance on her lips as she thumbed the handle to the doorway and walked into the hall.

She had a job to do.

BREAK

The first thing that Percy realized when he opened his eyes was that his back did not hurt. Which was weird in and of itself because by all rights it should have been broken beyond repair. Then he realized that he wasn't dead. Again that was weird but as the memories of his conversation with Apollo came flooding back, the situation resolved itself. Finally, Percy realized that he was in water. It would have been strange for literally anyone else to not notice that they were fully submerged in water, but not for a child of a sea god. He gave his right arm an experimental wave under the water, enjoying the lack of restricted mobility that normally accompanied being submerged, and found that it too had been completely healed. He couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips.

It paid to be broken.

His attention was drawn to movement near the surface. He recognized shapes near the lip and saw that they appeared to be humanoid. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, despite the track record, he launched himself skyward towards the surface. He exploded out of the water with a little more force than he had been anticipating and landed unsteadily on soft grass. He stumbled a bit before soft hands grabbed hold of his arm and helped steady him. Looking up in slight surprise he locked eyes with a familiar face.

"Ororo?" He asked confused. The woman, Ororo, released his arm and gave him a soft smile.

"Hello again Perseus." Her voice was soft yet strong. The voice of a leader. And Ororo Munroe was just that. One of Charles Xavier's closest allies and companions she was also a friend of Percy's, going back to his earliest years at SHIELD. "It's good to see you again." She said.

Percy was floored. He looked around and instantly recognized where he was. He had somehow managed to land in the small lake on the property of Charles Xavier's school. How in the hell had he landed here? What kind of freak luck would let him land-He stopped himself and looked up at the sky.

"Goddamned Apollo ex machina." He muttered. He turned when he heard soft chuckling at his other side. A smile graced his lips as the form of Charles Xavier wheeled itself into his vision. He unfolded his hands and extended one for Percy to shake.

"Indeed Agent Jackson. We were told that you would be arriving earlier this morning. Apparently young miss Slater had a meeting with her father last night and told her all about where you would be."

"And more importantly the help you would need." Said Ororo slyly, a wry grin on her lips.

Percy wasn't all that surprised in retrospect. Patricia Slater was a daughter of Apollo that Percy had brought to Xavier's school when it was realized that she had developed a slight mutation that changed the color of her hair when she got too emotional. While it was a rather tame mutation in comparison to some of the other cases at the school, she was also one of nearly a dozen identical cases that had put Percy on an exceptionally good relationship with most of the students and staff at the school.

"I'll have to thank Patty the next time I see her." Percy said. Then he allowed a serious expression to form itself on his face. "Charles, we need to talk, please tell me Logan is here?" he asked. Charles folded his hands in his lap and looked at Percy.

"Let's adjourn to my office, I just called for a staff meeting. I have a feeling that everyone will want to hear what you have to say" Percy merely nodded,

"Lets hurry and get a move on then" he said with a glance to the sky where the sun was high. It was already nearly noon.

They were running out of time.

 _AN: Ok so confession time. The reason that this took so long to get out was that when I was planning out the progress of the story I found that I just really disliked the way the story started and pretty much everything prior to the Avengers stuff. I was almost to the point where I was going to scrap the whole thing and start from scratch but then I decided that, that would not be fair to all of you so I decided to try and make the best of what I've already written. I'll address some concerns I've been seeing as well now that I'm here. No this will not be a Percabeth story. While I am fond of the couple I don't feel that it has any part to play in the story I want to tell. The same goes for PercyxNat. I love that pairing really I do, but I just don't think it would work with the direction I want to go with things. I know that might seem to some of you to contradict the scene in this chapter but I'm not trying to establish that. The purpose of that scene is something else entirely. Anyways thank you all so much for all of the patience and I hope that all of y'all had a good time with this chapter! Next up is the biggie and it should be a lot of fun. I don't think it will take too long to come out, knock on wood, but I want to work on my other two stories first. I'm actually really excited about the Harry Potter one, it's pretty different from anything else I've seen on the site so I if you're into that check it out. Now that I'm done pimping out all of my shit. Thanks again, love you all and hope everyone takes it easy._

 _-LilDB_


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